Hetalia Drabbles
by GotMyNameInLights
Summary: A series of drabbles that involve some of the following pairings (possibly more/less if I decide later) : USUK, Spamano, FrUK, RomAnce, Itacest, PruCan, AusHun, PruHun, RuCan, AmeCan, Franada, Gerita, Edelweiss, Maple Tea, FrUs, The Awesome Trio, The Bad Touch Trio, LitBel, etc. You get the idea. I ship almost everything! :)
1. Home on the Range (Spain x America)

_**Hello, all! So, I'm considering this being one of a compilation of Hetalia drabbles that I'm starting. Does that sound good? For the record, I ship just about everything, so feel free to leave me suggestions in the comments section! Make sure to review too! It keeps me writing! **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Home on the Range: a Spain x America drabble<span>

It had been a long day. Alfred couldn't deny that at all. He was completely wiped out, and all of his fellow cowhands were currently asleep around the bonfire. Well, all but one. Antonio had been the one, who brought the cows with him when he'd moved to America, and they were currently herding them west to be sold at auction.

Alfred sighed and sat down on one of the logs, removing his hat as he did so. His entire body ached, and he rolled his shoulders, groaning a bit as he did. He couldn't believe he'd agreed to do this. Looking over at Antonio, he couldn't help but smile a little. The two of them had become fast friends in the brief time they'd known each other. Currently, the Spaniard was leaning back, his hands behind him and resting in the dirt, as he looked up at the night sky. Alfred looked up as well. _Man, the days may be hell, but this…this is worth it…_ he thought to himself. The stars twinkled above their heads in a way that, even then, was diminished in the city by gas lamps and such. Here, there was nothing between them. It was gorgeous.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he heard the voice beside him ask. He looked over at Antonio and smiled a little. "That it is," he responded.

"I've always loved the plains. I miss the buffalo, though. They used to be all around here. People have been poaching them for their pelts and such..." Antonio said sadly, his gaze turning from the sky to the ground. "They're such gentle creatures. It's really a shame."

"The pelts sell though, Antonio. I wish they didn't, but they do. It's a good market," Alfred said softly, though a small bit of remorse tinted his voice as he said the words. He didn't like what the settlers were doing to the buffalo at all. But, then again, he'd always had a weakness for animals.

"That's the problem though, amigo…" the Spaniard said, gently scuffing his worn boots in the dirt as he said it. "It's not all about the money. Sometimes it's better to protect the things that can't be replaced than to make a profit off them that will only go away over time."

Alfred had to admit, he had a point. But there was really nothing the two of them could do. After all, they were only cowboys. Next to the Native Americans, they were sort of at the bottom of the societal heap. He wished he could, though. He moved a little closer to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Everything will be okay eventually, Antonio. You'll see…" he murmured, though he wasn't quite sure if it was actually true.

"How can you possibly know that?" he asked with a sigh, though he rested his head against Alfred's shoulder. The man _was_ warm, after all, and it was freezing. For a place where the sun beat down all day, it got freezing cold at night. He shivered a little bit.

Alfred caught the shiver and stood, removed his beaten up jacket, and draped it over the other man's shoulders. It wasn't much. It was pretty thin, but it should at least shield him from the wind. He sat back down and smiled over at him. "I don't…" he said softly. "I'm just kinda an optimist."

Antonio chuckled softly and pulled the jacket tighter around him. "You're sure you won't be cold without this?" he asked, looking up at the American. "It's really windy out here."

"Nah, I'll be fine. I'm kind of a walking heater. I'm always too warm," he laughed softly. "Even when it's cold like this."

Antonio smiled a bit and cuddled close to him. "Well then, thanks. How can I repay you, sir?" he teased gently, looking up at him.

"You could let me kiss you…" he said without thinking, then blushed dark when he realized it had actually left his mouth as opposed to just being in his mind. _Oh sweet mother of god…I cannot believe I actually just said that! _he thought to himself. _I'm such an idiot!_

Antonio blushed as well, though not as fiercely as Alfred did. He had to admit, he'd liked the American ever since they'd first met. He'd just assumed that there was no way he felt the same way. _Apparently I was wrong, _he thought to himself. _What a fantastic surprise._ With that, he leaned up and gently placed his lips on Alfred's.

Alfred let out a soft noise of surprise at the action, but after a moment he relaxed and kissed him back. He wrapped his arms around his waist, and as suddenly as the kiss had begun, it stopped.

Antonio pulled away and smiled up at him. "That was sufficient payment, si?" he teased.

Alfred smirked. "I don't know, dude. I think you have some debts to work off."

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><p><em><strong>Yay, fluffy cuteness! I got this idea in my history class today because we're learning about Westward Expansion. I'd learned that Spain did, in fact, bring long-horned cattle over to America, which was a major reason cowboys were needed . And thus, this drabble was born! Hoped you guys liked it! More to come!<strong>_


	2. Nursemaid (PruCan)

_**Ciao, lovlies! I'm glad you guys liked my first drabble! I literally wrote it during my study hall, lol. Anyways, here's my next one. A PruCan one for you guys! As always, feel free to leave suggestions for pairings in the comments. If you comment one, maybe I'll try and write it as soon as I can. **__**J**__** Remember to review! It keeps me writing. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Nursemaid: a Canada x Prussia drabble<span>

_Gilbert? Did Alfred give me the right number? –M_

That was the text that Gilbert Beilschmidt received that immediately sent his heart beating erratically. He'd loved the Canadian for a long time, and now he was suddenly texting him? Why?

_Ja, it is the awesome me! What's up, Matthew? –G_

_ Well, this is gonna be real awkward, but Alfred's out for the day, and I'm pretty sick. Would you mind stopping by the pharmacy and picking me up some cold medicine, and maybe some Asprin? –M_

Gilbert sighed a little bit. The poor boy, all alone. Who knew how sick he actually was? Was it just a cold, or the flu? He quickly typed out a response.

_Of course. I'll be there soon, ja? Leave the front door unlocked and I'll just bring it up to your room. –G_

With that, the Prussian put his phone in his pocket and grabbed his coat off the hook by his front door. He'd only been in the living room screwing around on his laptop anyways. Besides, he was happy to help out Matt in any way he could. It made him angry that the other countries couldn't see him. He was really a sweet guy once you got to know him. Hell, maybe as awesome as himself.

Meanwhile, at his house, Matthew felt like he was dying. He wasn't actually, of course, but he sure felt like it. He had the flu, and that made it impossible to get warm along with feeling like absolute hell. He went into another coughing fit that was becoming far too familiar, and hoped to God Gilbert got there soon. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

After swinging by the pharmacy as asked, Gilbert got to his house and knocked before remembering that he'd told Matthew to leave the door open for him. He turned the knob (which was a feat in and of itself, considering he had two bags in each hand) and pushed into the living room. He set the bags down with a quiet huff of relief and took off his shoes, hung up his coat, and ruffled his hair a little bit to get the snowflakes out of it. It had been snowing on and off all day, and, unfortunately, he'd gotten caught in the "on" part. The sound of yet another of Matthew's coughing fits snapped him back to reality and, only after briefly checking in the mirror to make sure he looked at least the slightest bit presentable, grabbed the bags and headed upstairs to his room. The door was slightly ajar, and he managed to push his way in without making too much noise. The sight of Matthew lying so small under his covers, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead, was enough to break his heart a bit. He'd never wanted to see Matt sick. It just made him sad to see him looking pitiful. "Hallo, Matthew," he said with a small smile, making his way over to his bed and sitting down on the side next to him. "How are you feeling?"

Matthew smiled weakly back at him, only to be cut off by a cough. "Like hell, thanks for asking…" he chuckled once he'd regained his breath. He'd checked earlier. He had a temperature of 101.2 degrees Fahrenheit, which meant, yes. He was sicker than a dog.

Gilbert gently placed the back of his hand across Matthew's forehead and sighed, pulling it away after just a moment. "Mein gott…you're burning up…" he murmured, getting up. "I need to cool you down," he said, going and beginning to walk towards the kitchen to make him a cool wash cloth to put on his head.

Matthew caught his hand though, and looked at him pitifully. "N-no…" he said softly, looking up at him with those lavender iris' that (unbeknownst to him) Gilbert loved so much. "I can't get warm…"

Gilbert felt his heart begin to race as Matt took his hand in his own, but he had to push that feeling away for a moment. _You're here to help and take care of Matthew, Gilbert…_ he reminded himself. _Behave_. "Vat do you need me to do for you?" he asked gently in return.

"Can I have my cold medicine please?" the Canadian asked, to which Gilbert nodded and handed him a bottle. Matthew took it gratefully and poured out the correct dosage. He'd always hated cold medicine, but if it helped…. He swallowed it, and grimaced.

Gilbert couldn't help but laugh a little at the face he'd made. It was funny, he couldn't lie and say it wasn't.

Matthew blushed a little at his laughter, but otherwise ignored it. He looked up at the Prussian after a moment. "Gilbert?" he asked gently.

"Ja?" he asked, looking back at him.

"W-would you mind lying down with me? I-it's just, I can't get warm, and-" He didn't have to say another word. Gilbert laid down next to him and pulled him into his arms, allowing the Canadian to rest his head gently against his chest. "Thanks…" he murmured, snuggling against him. He could already feel himself getting warmer.

"You're welcome…" he murmured back, holding him close. Then, carefully, he pressed a gentle kiss to the boy's temple. "I'm taking care of you today, alright? Keine excuses or protests," he said softly.

Matthew blushed when he felt Gilbert's lips against his temple. They were far softer than he thought they would be. Instead of leaning up and kissing him senseless like he wanted to, however, he cuddled closer to him and settled for placing a soft kiss of his own against his chin. "Yeah, okay…" he chuckled softly.


	3. Seven Minutes (SpaMano)

_**Guten Morgen/Tag/Abend lovlies! Alright, here's another drabble for you guys. A Spamano one, yay! I've been feeling really inspired recently to do these, and I'll probably be typing a lot of them over this weekend so I'll have a stockpile of them. I'm going to try and put a new one up every day, but who knows if that'll actually happen, lol. Anyways, make sure to review! It keeps me writing, and please! By all means, submit ships for me to write about. **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Seven Minutes: a high school Spain x Fem!Romano drabble<span>

"Alright dude. Truth or dare?" Alfred asked, slightly drunkenly. He'd invited his friends (and by friends, he meant anyone who had ever talked to him) over to his place to have a party since his parents were out of town. Naturally, Scotland and Ireland had brought beer with them, so everyone had had some at this point, some more than others. Currently, they were all sitting on the floor in (what was a very askew mockery of) a circle. Alfred was talking to Francis, and the Frenchman smiled.

"Dare," he replied, which caused Alfred to grin evilly. He was fairly good friends with Francis, so he knew exactly how to toy with him.

"I dare you to kiss Arthur on the lips," Alfred said, which caused various people to "oooooooo" around them.

"Wait, what?! Bloody wanker!" Arthur said, his eyes going wide when he realized that Alfred's dare involved him as well. His protests were cut off, however, by Francis planting a kiss on him. It resulted in a large amount of cat calls from around the room and a deep blush on Arthur's part. But, in the end, he kissed him back, much to his embarrassment.

Francis pulled away after a moment and winked at Arthur, which only resulted in darkening the Brit's blush, before turning to his next victim; one of his best friends, Antonio. Antonio sighed when he was asked the question. He, Francis, and Gilbert basically knew all of each other's secrets, so he didn't quite want to choose truth, as they could make him spill a secret he regretted. So, his shoulders slumping a little bit, he reluctantly chose. "Dare."

Francis smirked and glanced briefly over at Lovina where she was sitting on the opposite side of the circle before turning his gaze back to the Spaniard. Antonio had let slip last week that he had a large crush on her, and it was his turn to get him together with someone. After all, a few weeks prior, Antonio had managed to set him up on a date with Matthew, so he figured it was time to return the favor. "I dare you to spend seven minutes with Lovina in ze closet over zere," he chuckled, which caused Antonio to look up at him with wide eyes.

_Oh, you are so paying for this!_ Antonio thought to himself. It didn't appear that Lovina had heard Francis, so he got up and went over to her, offering her his hand shyly. "Care to join me in the closet?" he asked, trying to be as casual as he could. In reality, his heart was pounding against his ribs, yet at the same time it was up in his throat. _How is that even possible?!_

Lovina started a little when she heard a voice close to her, causing her to die in her game of Flappy Bird on her phone. And a little away from a new high score too! She looked up and blushed when she realized who was talking to her. "You made me die, idiota…" she muttered, though there was no bite to her words.

"Sorry…" he chuckled. "Come on," he murmured, leaning down and taking her hand. "Let's get this over with."

She felt her pulse rate go through the roof, but ignored it for the moment. _There's no way on __**Earth**__ that I like him_ she told herself. _He's annoying and loud and…and…_ She couldn't think of any more justifications, so she just allowed herself to be lead to the closet. Francis shut them in, and darkness enveloped them.

"Seven minutes!" Francis called. "Make it count!"

Antonio was glad for the darkness so that Lovina couldn't see his blush. Okay, so maybe it was a little more than just a crush. He liked her a lot. He thought she was absolutely beautiful, especially in the dress she was wearing tonight. It was a turquoise blue color, and stopped just above her knees. It reminded him a little of the ocean on a clear day. "So…" he said softly. "We've got seven minutes. What would you like to do?"

A flash of scenarios flashed behind Lovina's eyes, a majority of them at least a _bit_ inappropriate. She shook her head to clear them from her mind, but they were still nagging at the back of her brain. _Go on, just kiss him!_ It screamed at her, which only served to make her heart beat faster. _You know you want to. Don't be a coward._ Regardless of what her brain said, however, she stayed put. "I'm not sure," she said just as softly as he did. She didn't want her voice to be too loud in the small space.

"Well…there are a couple of options," he murmured, inching towards her the slightest bit, again thankful for the darkness allowing him to do so. He could smell her flowery perfume. It smelled like roses, and to him it smelled positively divine. "I think you know a lot of them, si?"

She sighed and looked down. "Si…I do," she said shyly.

Hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to himself. "I'm not the best at talking, seniorita…" he said, practically whispering in her ear.

"A-antonio, what are you doing?" she squeeked when she felt herself being pulled close to him. It's not that she minded, but she would have liked a little warning first! She shivered when she felt his hot breath tickle her ear. "Then what are you good at?" she breathed.

"This," he breathed in return before leaning in and kissing her. It was the type of kiss that left you weak in the knees when you pulled away for breath. It was sweet, and passionate, and gentle all at the same time. And…it was full of everything he wanted to say, but couldn't. He was in love with her, but there was no way he'd admit that to himself or to her. Not for a long time, at least.

She was a bit surprised that he was being so bold, but she happily kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his mop of dark brown hair.

He smiled a bit against her lips when he realized that she was kissing him back. _She feels the same?! Really?!_ He thought, happiness flooding through his veins as he did so. He took a step forward, but he didn't know quite how small the closet was and he ended up pinning the Italian to the wall behind her.

She let out a soft gasp, but gladly went along with the action, shyly parting her lips for him to deepen the kiss if he wished.

Antonio gladly deepened the kiss, cupping her cheek with his hand and resting the other on her waist, pulling her even closer than she already was.

Instead of just being pulled closer, however, she jumped a little and wrapped her legs around his waist, the wall supporting her as she continued to kiss him deeply. She let out a soft noise at the feeling of being so close to him.

He groaned softly at the action and the hand that had been resting on her waist went to tangle in her hair.

Just then, the door was flung open as the two were still lip-locked, only to reveal a rather stunned Alfred. There was a collective cheer from the far side of the room where Gilbert and Francis were sitting which caused the two of them to part, matching blushes adorning their cheeks as Antonio let Lovina down. He took her hand and led her back to the circle, where Antonio looked over at Gilbert, a devilish look in his eye as he did. "Alright, Gil. Truth or dare?"

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><p><em><strong>I hope you guys liked this one! It was a lot of fun to write, as it was a little less fluff and a little more *kissy kissy*. Not to mention, I managed to incorporate some of my other ships, which is always a bonus! <strong>_


	4. Under My Spell (USUK)

_**Hello everyone! Sorry for the relatively late update today. Busy day. Anyways, here's the next drabble. **__** It's a UsUk one this time! Enjoy! Make sure to leave ship suggestions in my comments. And review! It keeps me writing! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Under My Spell: a America x England drabble<span>

"Stupid git…" Arthur muttered as he went down into his basement. Alfred had once again made a comment at a "meeting", which in reality was just a party, that his magic wasn't actually real. That it was just him "losing his mind" because he was just "a crazy old man now". He'd show him. He was _too_ magic.

He got down to the basement and immediately started pawing through his stacks of spell books. _No…no…no…_ He had books on everything from transfiguration to black magic to herbology (though he didn't use that one much). But he was looking for one in particular right now. _Ah..._ he thought to himself as he finally found it. It was his introduction to potions book that he'd gotten when he was first starting out. Most of it was utter nonsense, but there was one thing that wasn't. That was the reason he'd been looking for this particular book.

A love potion.

According to the book, it lasted approximately twenty-four hours, and it was to be ingested orally. He already knew how he'd do that. Tomorrow was a world meeting, and Alfred always brought a soda with him. He'd just slip it in his drink. Easy.

He lit the fire under his large cauldron in the middle of the room and began to put various ingredients into the pot. Lilac root, essence of rose, sunflower oil, pumpkin seeds, a splash of red wine, the list just kept going. All the while, he was muttering an incantation as he stirred the ingredients. It was scarily similar to the one the three witches muttered in Macbeth: "Double double toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble."

After an hour, the painstakingly put together potion was done and stopped up in one of his vials. He put the vial in his briefcase and smirked. _Let's see how skeptical he is when he's under my spell._

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><p>The time had finally come. Arthur had been seated next to Alfred for the duration of the meeting and it was finally their break time. Alfred had his back turned and, while he did, Arthur quickly unscrewed the cap of his Coca Cola and poured the potion in. He screwed it back on and looked down at paperwork as Alfred turned back around. What the American didn't see was the smirk that lay on his lips.<p>

Sure, Arthur had a crush on Alfred. Big whoop. It didn't change the fact that he also found him loud, annoying, childish, and infuriating. So to see him change all of that for twenty four hours was going to be fairly entertaining.

Alfred turned around from where he had been having a conversation with Francis to grab his soda. He took a swig and put it back down, then returned to his conversation.

_Come on…come on, kick in already! _Arthur thought to himself. It had now been fifteen minutes since he'd taken a drink, and he was starting to get antsy. Why was it taking so long? Was it a dud?

"l'Amerique? Are you alright?" Francis asked, rather concerned. What Arthur didn't see was that Alfred's iris' had changed color from the blue they normally were to a bright pink, then back to blue.

"Fine, dude. Why would you even ask that?" he asked, a little confused. He felt totally fine.

"No reason…" he said softly, glancing over at Arthur with a roll of his eyes. _God, not this again. _Arthur had spiked Alfred's drink with _something_, though he didn't know what, and now whatever it was was going to make some really weird things happen. _Great._

Alfred turned in the general direction that Francis was looking, only to be struck hard in the chest with a feeling he never knew he'd felt. Love. Deep, deep love for…_ARTHUR?!_ _Okay, that can't be right._ But it was. He was all of a sudden in love with the Brit, and he needed to make it known to him. For some reason…he just wanted to be close to him, and he couldn't do that if Arthur didn't know. "Arthur, can I talk with you out in the hall?" he asked, getting up.

Arthur couldn't help but smirk a little at his handiwork. He knew exactly where this was going, and he was more than happy to ride it out. "Of course," he said, getting up as well and allowing Alfred to lead him outside the conference room into the barren hallway. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Alfred blushed and looked down at his feet. "I…um…well…god, I don't even know how to say this…" he said softly. "I've never actually said this to anyone before."

Arthur felt a slight pang of guilt in his heart for that, but he pushed it down with the knowledge that the potion didn't _create_ love out of nothing. It just elaborated on love that was already there. "What is it, Alfred?" he asked gently, moving a little closer to him.

Alfred felt his heartbeat pick up, beating out a samba against his ribcage. "Well…um…I think I'm in love with you," he said shyly, still avoiding the man's gaze as he did so.

Arthur didn't say a word. Instead, he just leaned over and gently kissed him.

Alfred didn't recoil. He didn't push him away, as Arthur half expected him to. Instead, he kissed back tenderly.

"I love you too…"

The words were out of Arthur's mouth before he realized he'd said them, and he blushed dark when he realized he had. He didn't take them back, however. They were true, after all.

Alfred smiled and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling against his neck.

_ Who says I'm not magic?_ Arthur thought to himself as he snuggled into his chest.

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><p><em><strong>Okay, this one is kinda cruddy compared to some of my others, but I thought it turned out kinda cute. Review please! <strong>_


	5. Everything Will Be Okay (USUK)

_**Hey guys. Sorry for not putting up a drabble for you last night. I was really busy with homework and all that jazz. But I'm back, and to keep you from killing me, I'm uploading two today! **__** Make sure to leave me suggestions in the comments, and review please! It keeps me writing. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Everything Will Be Okay: a America x England drabble<span>

Alfred was just sitting at home. That was really all he was doing. He was just sitting in his living room when he got the call that changed his life. He grabbed his phone from where it was buzzing on the end table and looked. Unknown number. _Huh,_ he thought. _That's strange._ He went ahead and answered it anyways. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Alfred F. Jones?" a kind woman's voice asked over the other line.

"Yeah, that's me!" he said cheerfully. "What's up?"

"I have you down as the emergency contact for a Miss Jessica Waters?" she said, checking her records again. "I'm calling from Sacred Heart Hospital downtown."

Alfred's blood ran cold. "Is she alright?" he asked, his voice very serious now. Jessica was his girlfriend. A human, but he loved her with all his heart. He knew the day would come when she would die and he would have to go on without her, but he didn't want that to be now, for gods sake!

"Unfortunately not. She was in a bad car crash coming home from work today. She's currently lying comatose, but is in critical condition. We need you to get down here as soon as you can."

Alfred felt his heart plummet. "Of course. I'll be there right away." He hung up and, within two minutes, had changed into normal clothes, grabbed his bomber jacket and keys, and was driving to the hospital. _Please let her be okay…_ he thought. _Please, please, please…. _

He arrived at the hospital a few moments later. He shut off his ignition and made his way inside to the reception desk. Behind the desk was the woman who had called him. She was fairly pretty. Dark brown hair, hazel eyes. But he didn't care about that. "Hi, I'm Alfred F. Jones. I'm here for Jessica Waters," he said softly, his shoulders a bit slumped at even having to say that.

"Oh, you're Alfred. She's in room 321. It's right down the hall," she said politely, nodding in the general direction she was talking about.

"Thank you…" Alfred muttered before going down the hall as instructed. He braced himself, then went into the room. He had no idea what to expect.

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><p>It had been only a week since that fateful Monday, and everything was finally starting to hit him full force. He was sitting in his living room again, but this time with his head in his hands and tears rolling down his face.<p>

He'd just been to Jessica's funeral, and he couldn't quite bring himself to change out of his suit that he'd worn just yet. It was the suit he'd worn on their first date. He'd taken her to a nice restaurant, and then they'd gone dancing even though neither of them was very good at it. They'd had a wonderful time. This suit…it felt like it _was_ her at this point, no matter how pitiful that sounded. It reminded him of a time when he had Jessica, as opposed to when Jessica was six feet under.

He hadn't told any of the other countries about them. How could he? They all looked down upon human-country relations unless it was strictly professional. So now there wasn't even anyone he could go to for help. No one knew that he had been in a relationship with a human…and no one knew that his heart was shattered by one.

Arthur was rummaging outside the American's house, looking for the spare key he knew he always had hidden. He'd forgotten his briefcase there, and he needed it back, as he had a meeting with Francis tomorrow night. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed happily. The key had been placed in the potted plant by the door. Quickly, he unlocked the door and made his way inside. He was headed to the kitchen when he heard a strange noise. _Shit, is Alfred home?_ He thought to himself. _But wait…what __**is**__ that? Is that…crying?_

Alfred didn't hear Arthur come in. He had begun to sob, and he wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. Tears were rolling down his cheeks in near rivers at this point, but he didn't care. He missed her so much. If she were here now, she would have wrapped her arms around him and just held him as he cried. She would have whispered sweet nothings in his ear until he felt better. Of course, if she was here now…he wouldn't be crying.

Arthur quietly made his way to the doorway of the living room, only to be met with the most heart breaking sight he'd ever seen. Alfred, the Hero, the unbreakable…was sobbing on the couch. He couldn't help but make his way over and wrap his arms around the crying American.

Alfred sat bolt upright when he felt arms around him, and he glanced over only to see Arthur. He quickly wiped his tears away and put on a fake smile. "Hey Artie..." he said between sniffles. "What're you doing here, dude?"

Arthur looked up at him with a sad look in his eyes. "I came over to get my briefcase, but then I heard you crying. What happened, Alfred?" he asked softly.

With that question, every defense he'd hastily put up fell back down. He buried his face in Arthur's chest and began to sob again.

The action took Arthur a bit off guard, but he wrapped his arms around him. He didn't know what had happened, but what he did know was that, if Alfred was this upset, something big must have happened. He nuzzled his neck caringly and sighed. "Everything will be alright, love…" he murmured. "I promise. Everything is going to be okay."

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><p><em><strong>Sorry for the sad chapter, guys. I just had the idea that hey, they're countries. They live forever. What if they got together with a human and had to deal with losing them? Yes, this is the stuff I think about in my spare time. Please don't judge me. Anyways, since Alfred is still a fairly young country, I figured it would probably be his first time dealing with it. New chapter to come a little later! <strong>_


	6. Locked Away (PruAus)

_**Hey guys! Okay, here's the other drabble as promised! Yay! Make sure to review, 'kay? It keeps me writing. **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Locked Away: a Prussia x Austria drabble<span>

"Gilbert, I told you, I'm fine! Now leave me alone," Roderich muttered, turning back to the sheet music he had on his piano. He'd been composing again. Admittedly, he'd been doing that more and more lately, but he just assumed it was because he was more inspired than usual. Nothing to worry about.

"That's a lie and we both know it, hot shot," Gilbert laughed, walking into the room and sitting down next to him on the piano bench. Roderich moved away a little bit as he did. "You've been hiding. You don't want to deal with the fact that you're losing the war, so you've been locking yourself away in here and _composing_ or whatever you call it."

Austria was currently at war with Hungary, and he was losing badly. Very, _very_ badly. And it had been taking a toll of Roderich physically and emotionally. So…though he'd never admit it, he knew Gilbert was right. He had been hiding. He just didn't want to deal with all of this. It wasn't right. He shouldn't be at war with someone who he cared so much for. "Shut up…" he muttered, looking down at the sheet music and scribbling some notes down.

"I won't shut up until you admit that I'm right," Gilbert said with a roll of his eyes. It was killing him to see Roderich wasting away like this. This wasn't how he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be…well, not strong. He'd never been strong. He just shouldn't be this miserable all the time. While the man could be uptight, he was never miserable, and Gilbert wanted to fix it.

"Then you'll be talking a rather long time," he muttered, beginning to play through his piece on the ivories in front of him. He got through the first few measures only to be stopped when Gilbert's hands took his own and removed them from the keys.  
>"What?" he growled, looking up at the Prussian. He was starting to get rather angry at him.<p>

"Look, fancy pants. It's not my job to tell you how to run your life, but at this rate, you're running it right into the ground. Hell, this is the first time I've seen you all week, and it's only because I came looking," he said, slightly exasperated. He released Roderich's hands and stood up, leaning on one hand which he had placed behind him on the top of the instrument. "You need to get out more. Do things! See things!" he said, a little kinder. He rolled his eyes. "I mean, when's the last time you went out on a date? Or got laid, for that matter?"

Roderich blushed darkly. "That is none of your concern!" he spat, looking up at him. "But if you must know, it's been a few months."

"No wonder you've got a stick up your ass all the time," the Prussian muttered. He then grinned. "Come on. I've got an idea," he said, reaching forward with the hand that had been on the piano and completely forgetting that it had been supporting him. He fell with a surprised yelp, and when he opened his eyes, he was looking up at Roderich. He'd fallen directly into the Austrian's lap, causing both of them to blush like mad. "Es tut mir lied (I'm sorry), Roderich…" he murmured in his native tongue, though he made no move to get up.

Roderich was stunned when Gilbert fell into his lap, but, looking down at him…he wasn't about to push him off, especially after he locked eyes with him. His scarlet iris' were positively stunning, there wasn't any arguing about that. Sure, they scared some people, but Roderich wasn't one of them. His eyes trailed over the rest of his face. He certainly was handsome…quite so, actually. He'd never noticed because they were friends, but he was starting to realize now just how attracted to Gilbert he actually was. "Nein…it's not a problem..." he said softly, looking down at him with a small smile on his lips.

Gilbert quirked an eyebrow at him. "Really?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper now. He sat up, but didn't make any move to get off of him. Instead, it simply brought their faces closer together. He'd always been attracted to Roderich. He wasn't about to deny that blatantly obvious fact. What he _was_ going to deny was the fact that, as he sat there, his eyes flicked down to Roderich's lips more than once. Nope. He would carry that with him to his grave.

Roderich caught the glance and smiled the slightest bit. "Really…" he whispered. Then, on impulse, he leaned in and captured Gilbert's lips with his own, his fingers going into the man's hair on their own accord. And when their lips met…he felt fireworks.

Gilbert felt like he was walking on air when Roderich kissed him. God, how long he'd wanted to do this… He gladly kissed him back, wrapping his arms around his neck as he did.

Roderich pulled away a few moments later and smiled shyly at him. "So…what were you saying about going out on dates?" he asked.

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><p><em><strong>Yay! I love PruAus to death, but I also love PruHun and AusHun, so it's a real problem, lol. Hope you guys liked it! Make sure to review and leave me suggestions for pairings in the comments! Thanks!<strong>_


	7. Breakout (2P USUK)

_**Bonjour lovlies! Its Hetalia drabble time again! Woot woot! Anyways, this time I'm delving into something that I've never written before. I'm gonna try and write 2P characters. This is probably going to only be a one time thing, but if you want, you can leave suggestions in the reviews for future ones. I might write them if I like them. Anyways, enjoy! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Breakout: a 2P! America x 2P! England drabble<span>

Four years. Four horrible, long years Oliver had been stuck alone in the home he used to share with Andrew. Well, that was before the trials and the charges and the arrests. Not necessarily in that order. Andrew Jones had been arrested on false murder charges. Andrew hadn't done it. He'd been with Oliver the entire night, making cupcakes in the kitchen. Still, he'd been convicted and was currently facing a life sentence in prison. Oliver sighed and sat down on the couch. His kitten came over and curled up in his lap, and he gently stroked Cupcake's furry head. Since he had nothing better to do, he flicked on the television to the news channel. There was always _something_ going on, even if it wasn't very interesting. And that was when he heard it.

_Breaking news. The convicted murderer Andrew Jones has broken out of prison and is currently roaming the streets of London. Whereabouts are unknown at this point._

Oliver had to take a moment to digest the information. Andrew had gotten out. He was free! He had to rewind the video just to make sure he'd heard right, and when he confirmed his suspicions, he grinned wide and hugged his cat to his chest. "Oh, Cupcake! Did you hear that?! Andrew is coming home!" he said happily. He heard police sirens whir past their house and he chuckled. If Andrew had broken out, there was no way they were going to find him. He was clever, and he wouldn't slip up.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Oliver grinned again and practically ran to the door, flinging it open. And, sure enough, there was Andrew. Somehow he'd must have managed to steal his old clothes back and change into them, because he wasn't wearing a prison jumpsuit. Instead, he was wearing his jeans, his white tank top, and his bomber jacket. He'd even stolen his sunglasses back.

Andrew grinned when he saw Oliver, and he took off his sunglasses so that he could look at him easier. "Hey babe…" he murmured. "Miss me?"

Oliver laughed and threw his arms around his neck, kissing him gently before pulling away and burying his face in his chest. "My god yes…" he giggled.

Andrew wrapped his arms around him in return and held him close. He'd missed him so much. "Good. I missed you too…" he murmured, kissing him on the top of his head gently and just holding him close to himself. The smaller man smelled like cologne mixed with the scent of frosting, and he chuckled softly. "Been baking again?"

Oliver blushed a little bit. "Yeah. Why?"

"I can smell the frosting on you," he laughed, kissing him on the forehead.

"Oh," he giggled. "My bad." He moved aside so that Andrew could come inside. The longer he was outside, the higher the chance that he'd be spotted by police. "Come in, come in."

Andrew smiled and did as he was told. He hung up his coat on the coat tree by the door, and looked around. Everything looked exactly like he remembered it, right down to Cupcake sleeping on the couch arm. He went over to the cat and kissed the top of its head gently before turning to Oliver, who was just closing the door behind him. "So babe…I've got something to ask you. I meant to a while ago, but you know…the whole 'being arrested and imprisoned' thing happened, which kind of threw off my plans, so…" he said, a bit shyly for him. Something was going on. Something big.

Oliver looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "What is it, love?" he asked, walking over to where his boyfriend was standing.

Andrew smiled at him and fished around in his pants pocket for a moment before pulling out a small velvet covered box. A ring box. He got down on one knee in front of a positively stunned Oliver, and looked up at him. "Babe…I know these past few years have been really hard on both of us. I'm so sorry. I didn't do it, and yet they're punishing both of us for something someone else did. However, this has taught me a valuable lesson. It's taught me to never, _ever_ take what we have for granted. I love you so much, Oliver, and the fact that I get to see you even now is a blessing in and of itself. But I was wondering…if maybe you'd like to be my guy forever? Would you marry me, babe?"

Oliver's eyes were almost as wide as his smile. "Oh my god, yes!" he exclaimed happily, tackling a laughing Andrew to the ground in a hug and peppering his face with kisses.

_This, right here, is worth all the trouble…_Andrew thought to himself. _Seeing him this happy. I never would have had the guts to do it if I didn't know what it was like to live without him._

Oliver stood up then, grabbed Andrew by the tank top, and brought their lips together in a searing kiss.

Andrew happily kissed him back, and only pulled away when the need for air became too prevalent. "What was that for?" he laughed breathily.

The Brit had a devilish look in his eye, and he smirked. "Come on, love. We've got a lot of lost time to make up for."

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><p><em><strong>Okay, this one was way more fun to write than I thought it would be. I really like these two now. Damn it! Lol. Anyways, make sure to review! It keeps me writing. <strong>_


	8. All Work and No Play (FrUK)

_**Bonjour all! How is everybody? Good? Good. **__** Sorry for not updating yesterday and the day before. I had a thematic essay to write for History class, and you guys know that my school work comes first. Sorry! Anyways, I'll be posting two extra drabbles this weekend to make up for it, and I'll be writing a lot next week because I'll officially be on February break! Huzzah! I hope you guys like this one. Enjoy, and make sure to review! OH! I almost forgot! I got asked in my reviews by thesuncomesaftertherain the other day if you could make suggestions for pairings. Yes you can! Feel free, guys! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>All Work and No Play: a France x England drabble (featuring the FACE family)<span>

Arthur collapsed onto the couch. He was bloody exhausted. He'd been forced to watch the kids today while Francis went to work, and he hadn't had the energy that morning to care what the Frenchman said. He'd just wanted to go back to sleep, when he was jumped on by Alfred and Matthew. Needless to say, that had been the highlight of the day so far. He'd just managed to pour himself a cup of tea when Alfred came rushing into the room.

"Dad, will you read me a story?" the small colony asked, and the Brit couldn't help but smile as those bright blue eyes twinkled in the light. The boys called him "Dad" and Francis "Papa" to avoid confusing them when they called out for them or talked to both at once.

"Quickly, alright? And then it's off to bed for you," Arthur replied, his shoulders slumping a little bit. He was going to have to reheat his tea, but at least he'd get to have some after Al went to bed. Matthew had gone to bed hours ago, so now it was only Alfred that he had to deal with.

Alfred grinned and handed him a copy of "Goodnight moon". It was old and battered from use, but it was one of the boy's favorite bedtime stories.

Arthur chuckled softly and took it from him. "This one again, eh? Why not choose a different book? I must have read this one a million times by now," he said, though a fond smile was on his face as he did.

"Nope. This one," he said stubbornly, flipping open the book to the first page.

Arthur nodded and began to read.

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><p>Arthur went into the kitchen and reheated his mug of tea in the microwave, watching the china spin round and round as it did so. When it finally beeped, he took it out and sighed when he felt the warm liquid pass his lips. God that felt good.<p>

When he'd finished his tea, he plopped onto the couch and curled up with his Kindle. He was right in the middle of a riveting action novel, and he couldn't wait to find out what happened to the heroine. He was so engrossed in the novel a half an hour later that he didn't even hear the door open.

Francis didn't hear any kids running about, so he assumed that Arthur had gotten them to bed alright. Now the real question was if his husband was still conscious after the night he must have had. He hung up his coat and headed into the living room, only to find Arthur with his nose in his book. He should have expected as such. He crossed behind the couch and smiled a bit as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "Bonjour, mon amour…" he murmured in his ear.

Arthur jumped and whipped around, only to smile and peck him on the lips. "Hello, love…" he murmured when he pulled away. "How was work?"

"Far too long," the Frenchman responded, sitting down next to Arthur and wrapping an arm around his waist. "It's good to be home."

Arthur rested his head on his shoulder and cuddled into his side. "It's good to have you home, frog…" he muttered, but there was no hate in his voice. Simply love and teasing.

"How vere ze kids?" he asked, looking over at him. "Zey veren't too bad today, vere they?"

"They were fine. I'm just tired now…" he chuckled softly, shutting his eyes. After a few moments, he simply fell asleep.

Francis smiled knowingly when he heard Arthur's gentle snores coming from beside him. It had happened to himself a few times before, so he wasn't about to wake Arthur. Instead, he lay down and allowed Arthur to sleep curled up against his chest.

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><p><em><strong>I'm so sorry for the cruddy chapter, lovelies. I'm just not feeling very inspired today. The ones I post in a few days should be better, I promise. <strong>_


	9. The True Romance Language (RomAnce)

_**Okay guys, so I decided how I'm going to make up for my missed time. I'm gonna post two drabbles tomorrow, and two on Sunday, and then I'll be all caught up! Yay! I may not actually stick to this, but I very well might. Either way, you guys are gonna get 4 drabbles this weekend as opposed to 2! Hurray! Anyways, this is just a silly idea I came up with today in study hall that I thought would be really cute. Make sure to review! It keeps me writing! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>The True Romance Language: a France x Romano drabble<span>

It had started as silly bickering while walking down the street until Lovino said it.

"French isn't the romance language, idiota. Italian is."

And then all hell broke loose.

"Excusez-moi?" Francis asked disbelief in his voice. How could he think that just because Italians were smooth with the ladies too, that their language was the romance language? It had clearly always been, and always would be, French!

"You heard me, cheese for brains," Romano said with a roll of his eyes. "Italian is the true romance language. Not. French."

"Care to put your money where your overly large mouth is, mon amie?" he asked, stopping them in the middle of the sidewalk and causing everyone else to go around the two of them.

"Bring it-a on, Franceypants. What are your terms?" the Italian asked, stopping as well and crossing his arms in front of him.

"We both hit on ze beautiful femmes[1] in our native tongues, and whoever can get a kiss first wins," he said simply. "Four hundred Euros. Your call."

Lovino smirked and stuck his hand out for the Frenchman to shake. "Deal. This'll be easy."

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><p>The two countries had split up and had been wandering around the market. They were on mutual ground. America. The two had been there for a conference, and they were walking back to their apartment when they'd stumbled across it, so they'd decided to walk through it. And now, it was perfect for their little bet.<p>

Francis spotted a beautiful girl over by a jewelry stand and walked up behind her, working up all of his charm. She was wearing a pretty blue sundress, and had long blonde hair with sparkling purple eyes peeking out from underneath her bangs.

He needed to win this bet. Everything was going horribly over in his country. His economy wasn't great, his people were restless. He needed something to make him feel better. Sure, he might wish that Lovino would be that person for him, but he pushed the feeling aside as he approached the girl. He leaned against a post and smiled at her dashingly. "Aucun de ces bijoux comparer à l'éclat de vos yeux ...[2]" he murmured, which only caused the girl to quirk an eyebrow at him in confusion. She didn't speak French, after all. She'd taken Latin in high school. She simply smiled at him, then went back to looking at the handmade jewelry.

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><p>Lovino wandered the market, selecting his target carefully. He had one, maybe two chances at this, so he had to be careful. In truth, he didn't really care about winning the bet. Strike that, he didn't care about the money behind it. He just kind of wanted to show off for Francis. <em>Is that <em>_**so**__ wrong of me?_ he thought to himself. _People show off for their crushes all the time, right?_

He found a girl that was working at a produce stand. _Perfect_, he thought. She was very pretty, he couldn't deny that. She was wearing a black t-shirt with silver lettering across it. Some Shakespeare quote or something. White skinny jeans hugged her long legs, and she wore bright red Converse sneakers on her feet. She had shoulder length brunette hair, and gorgeous hazel eyes.

He approached the stand and smiled at her, shifting his demeanor from his normal anger and obnoxiousness to charming and suave as he walked. He leaned his arm against the table and looked over at her. "Ciao, bella…[3]" he purred, causing the girl to giggle and blush a bit. He purposely took the least complicated approach. Most people knew at least a _little_ bit of Italian, so he knew she would know enough to figure out she was being complimented.

The girl batted her eyelashes a bit at him. She thought he was cute, and certainly charming. "Hi, can I help you?" she asked happily, the blush not fading from her cheeks as she did.

"Mi accontenterei per il tuo numero di telefono [4]…" he purred, leaning across the table and winking at her. When she tilted her head to the side, he pantomimed a phone, which caused her to chuckle and nod.

She quickly scribbled down her phone number on a napkin and handed it to him. "Here you go," she said with a shy smile.

"Grazie!" he said happily, channeling his inner Feliciano as he did so. He _was_ related to the bastard, after all. He might as well. He then leaned over and kissed her on both cheeks (as was custom in his country), only causing her to blush darker. He then leaned over and kissed her sweetly before pulling away. "I'll call you," he said, a smirk on his lips when her eyes went wide from the shock of hearing him speak English.

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><p>The two met back at the market square after they'd both been gone for a half an hour. Francis' shoulders were slumped the slightest bit, but Lovino was smirking.<p>

"You lost-a, didn't you?" Lovino laughed, looking over at the defeated Frenchman.

"Like you did any better…" he muttered, looking down at the ground. He was a bit ashamed. He was the country of love, and he couldn't even pick up a girl using his own language?! What was _that_ about?!

"I did, actually," he said happily, pulling out the napkin from his pocket and revealing the phone number to Francis. "Read it and weep."

Francis' eyes went wide and he snatched the napkin out of his hands. "No way zis is real," he said after a minute of staring at it.

"Want me to prove it?" Lovino asked, his voice ringing from his cockiness.

"Please do," Francis said, shifting a bit on his heels. He had to admit…he didn't like the idea of Lovino kissing a girl. _He should be kissing __**me**_, he thought, then shook his head the slightest bit. Not enough that Romano would see.

Lovino nodded and pulled out his phone from his pocket. Quickly, he dialed the number of _Cindy_, as she'd written it in curly italics on the napkin, and put it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Ciao, Cindy!" Lovino said, his smirk growing into a full blown smile now as he looked over at Francis.

"Oh, you're the Italian guy that hit on me earlier? Hi! To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked happily. "Trying to convince me to smooch you again?" she teased.

"No, I was just proving a point," Lovino said with a shrug. "I'll call-a you again some other time, si?"

She nodded, then, once she realized he couldn't actually see her, she spoke. "Yeah, sounds great!"

"Arrivederci! [5]" he said before hanging up the phone and looking over at the now slack-jawed Francis. "Believe me now?" he asked.

Francis only nodded. He couldn't believe it. The pizza and pasta eater had just won the bet! Not only was he going to have to pay him four hundred Euros, but he was also going to probably have to hear him go on and on about Cindy, his new girlfriend, for the next few months!

Lovino could see that something was wrong, and he quirked his eyebrow at him. "Are you-a okay?" he asked softly.

Francis smiled weakly at him. "Fine," he muttered, turning to leave, but Lovino grabbed his hand to stop him.

"What is it?" he asked softly, looking up at him. "You can tell me, Francis."

Francis sighed. "I guess…I vas a little jealous of zat Cindy girl…" he admitted after a few moments of silence. "She got to kiss you, and I never have. It's not fair…"

Romano felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest when he heard those words. "I never said I'd stop you, did I?" he asked, leaning up and closing the distance between them by pressing their lips together sweetly.

Francis went stiff for a moment, but kissed him back slowly once he had a chance to adjust. He pulled away a few minutes later for breath and smiled at him. As he did, only one thought ran through his mind.

_He may not be the country of love…but he sure swept me off my feet._

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><p><em><strong>[1] femmes = girls<strong>_

_**[2] Aucun de ces bijoux comparer à l'éclat de vos yeux = None of those jewels compare to the sparkle in your eyes.**_

_**[3] Ciao, bella = Hello, beautiful.**_

_**[4] Mi accontenterei per il tuo numero di telefono = I'd settle for your phone number.**_

_**[5] Arrivederci! = Goodbye**_

_**Can I just say that this turned out **__**far**__** cuter than I ever thought it would? Anyways, here was some RomAnce for your Valentine's day. I hope you liked it! With love, ~Cheylock.**_


	10. A Rose By Any Other Name (PruCan)

_**Hello lovelies! So here's the first drabble I promised you today. Sorry it's showing up so late. I had to babysit. Oh well, it's here now! Any Shakespeare buffs out there are gonna love this one! Yay! Make sure to review, 'kay? It keeps me writing. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>A Rose By Any Other Name: a high school Prussia x Fem!Canada drabble<span>

Madeline walked across the balcony on her high school auditorium's stage, script in hand. "Romeo, doff thy name," she murmured.

Her high school production of Romeo and Juliet was only a month and a half away, and she was reading though her script. She hadn't gotten Juliet, though she'd tried her hardest. Her director just didn't notice her. It was her curse. So, here she was, reading through her script alone on stage an hour after the practice ended.

As she thought of Romeo, she couldn't help but think of her crush, Gilbert Beilschmidt. He'd gotten the part, of course, and he was brilliant at it. "And for that name, which is no part of thee take all of myself…" she said, leaning against the fake balcony. They'd gotten props set up the first couple of weeks so they'd have them to practice with. She sighed softly. She was alone in the theatre. Or, at least, she thought she was.

Gilbert had been in the greenroom doing a costume fitting for the masquerade scene just before the one Madeline was currently rehearsing. He'd just been released from the clutches of Natalya, their costume director, and gone into the auditorium to grab his bag when he stopped. That voice…. He looked up and saw that it was little Madeline Williams.

He truly thought she was the most beautiful girl in the school, inside and out. Of course, she would have no way of knowing that. Their paths didn't exactly cross very often. After all, he was the leading man, and she painted sets. He was captain of the football team, and she was in chess club. You get the idea.

So, as he looked up, he couldn't help but be entranced when he heard her recite Juliet's lines without ever once looking at the script. Elizabetha had been cast to play Juliet in the actual production, but her performance was so…unrealistic. Besides, wasn't the textbook Juliet supposed to be blonde, beautiful, and kind, not brunette and bitchy?

Gilbert hastily found the page Madeline was on and smiled a bit. It was the balcony scene, perhaps the most well known scene in all of Shakespeare. And damn it all if he wasn't going to rehearse the beautiful, romantic scene with her. This might be his one shot at this, and he wasn't about to blow it. "It take thee at thy word," he called. "Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth, I never shall be Romeo."

Madeline let out a startled squeak when she heard him. No _way_ could she be this lucky. "What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, so stumblest on my council?" she asked, her voice shaking realistically from the actual shyness she felt.

"By a name…" he said softly, stepping out from the shadows and revealing who he was. "I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself because it is an enemy to thee! Had I it written, I would tear the word." He pantomimed tearing a piece of paper, and Maddie giggled despite herself.

_He's so adorable,_ she thought to herself. _And his enthusiasm is infectious! _"My ears have not yet drunk a thousand words of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo…and a Montague?" she asked softly, looking down at him with a fond smile on her face.

He felt his heart skip a beat when she smiled at him. "Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike," he chuckled, walking to the base of the balcony and looking up at her, a matching smile on his lips.

"How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?" she asked, gesturing for him to join her up on the balcony as she did so. "The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here."

Gilbert grinned and quickly climbed the ladder that led up onto the balcony. He leaned his arm against the railing and made his way over to her. "With love's light wings did I o'er perch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out, and what love can do that dare love attempt; therefore, thy kinsmen are no let to me," he said softly as he came to a stop in front of her. As he said this, he gently brushed a piece of hair behind Madeline's ear.

Maddie blushed a bit at the action. It was surprisingly sweet of him. Very delicate and very kind. She looked up into his scarlet eyes, and sighed. "If they do see thee, they will murder thee…" she murmured, a bit of warning in her voice. And, in all honesty, the statement kind of rang true. When she'd told Alfred about her crush on Gilbert, he had flipped out. If they actually got together….oh lord, she didn't even want to think about that right now.

He smiled a bit when he saw the faint pink stain her cheeks. It was horribly endearing to him. "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than in twenty of their swords," he chuckled softly. "Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity," he said gently.

She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around him, resting her forehead against his shoulder as she did. "I would not for the world they saw thee here…" she murmured in his ear before nuzzling back against his neck.

Now it was the Prussian's turn to blush a bit. However, he wasn't about to argue, and he wrapped his arms around her slender waist, holding her close. God, he never wanted this moment to end. "I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight," he reassured her quietly. "And but thou love me, let them find me here: my life were better ended by their hate, than death prolonged wanting of thine love."

She pulled away after a moment to look up at him again. "By who's direction found'st thou this place?" she asked.

"By love, who did first prompt me to inquire; he lent me council, and I lent him eyes…" he said gently, resting his forehead against hers as he did. "I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far as that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise."

Maddie's heart fell when she had to pull away. This was a fairly lengthy monologue she was about to do, so she had to be ready for it, and being so close to Gilbert _certainly_ wasn't helping her train of thought run any smoother. So, she pulled away and began. "Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek for that which thou hast heard me speak to-night fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny what I have spoke: but farewell compliment!" She sighed, and looked up at him from under her long eyelashes. "Dost thou love me?" she asked softly. "I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' and I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, if thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully." She giggled a bit then and smiled. "Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, so thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world," she said, a teasing tone in her voice as she did so. She sighed again and took his hand in her own, looking into his eyes. "In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, and therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: but trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, but that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, my true love's passion: therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discovered."

Gilbert was positively shocked. He never knew Madeline could act like that. Sure, they'd been reciting lines for the past few moments, but that monologue…how long must she have worked on that to memorize it? How many nights in her room had she paced the floor with her script in hand and just recited it over and over to get it to the level of perfection it was at now? "Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops…" he began, only to have Madeline gently place her index finger over his lips to keep him from speaking.

"Oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest thy love prove likewise variable…" she said softly, removing her finger from over his lips to allow him to speak again.

Gilbert chuckled softly and kissed the back of her hand (which she'd been holding since her monologue) playfully. "What shall I swear by?" he asked, a hint of a plea in his voice as he did. He was a good actor. It's why he'd gotten the part. But Madeline…she was astounding.

Madeline had to keep in a giggle when Gilbert kissed the back of her hand. She had to stay in character. "Do not swear at all," she said with a shrug, not giving away any of the internal glee that she felt. "Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee."

He nodded and began to speak again. "If my heart's dear love…" he began, only to once again be cut off by Madeline.

"Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; too like the lightning, which doth cease to be  
>Ere one can say 'It lightens.'" she said gently. She stood on her toes (as he was much taller than she was) and gently kissed him on the cheek. "Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast…" she murmured shyly, then turned to go, only to be caught by the wrist and turned back around by Gilbert.<p>

Gilbert had a smirk on his face now, and he leaned forward the slightest bit so that their lips were only a little bit apart. "O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" he purred.

She blushed deep, and she felt her heart hammering, but somehow she managed to stay in character, even though his lips were _right __**there**_. "What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?" she asked her voice near a whisper now.

"The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine…" he said, his words ringing with truth. Because, if he was being honest with himself…he was in love with her. And he had been for a long time.

"I gave the mine before thou didst request it…" she breathed. She had. She'd been in love with him since she'd first seen him. It had been at a football game that Alfred had dragged her to (he was the middle linebacker), and she'd accidentally bumped into him when he'd been on his way to get water. At the time, she'd stammered shyly and walked away with her head down, but now? Now, though she didn't feel any less shy, she was in her element. She knew exactly what she was doing, and where this was going. It helped her feel a bit, well…confident. "And yet I would it to give again."

He quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side in slight confusion. "Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?" he asked softly.

She giggled a bit. "But to be frank, and to give it thee again," she chuckled. The end of the scene was coming up. God, she didn't want this to end. "And yet I wish for the thing I have: my bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite…" she murmured.

That was it. That was the end of the scene. That was the end of the scene, and they were still so close to each other. Gilbert couldn't help it. He closed the distance between them and gently pressed his lips to hers.

Madeline's eyes fluttered shut as she sweetly kissed him back in return, wrapping her arms up around his neck and pulling him down so she could reach him easier. _You know, I might not have wanted this to end…_ she thought to herself. _But this ending…I think it's completely worth it._

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><p><em><strong>So this is officially the longest chapter thus far. I hoped you guys liked it! God I love PruCan to an unhealthy degree, lol. :)<strong>_


	11. My Heart Isn't Ice (RuCan)

_**Alright guys. I promised you a second drabble today (though that last one should honestly count as two. It's over 2,000 words), so here it is! Hooray for keeping promises! Anyways, you know the drill at this point. Please review. It keeps me writing, blah blah blah. **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>My Heart Isn't Ice: a Russia x Canada Drabble<span>

Everyone had left the meeting already. It had been uneventful for every country except one. It had been _very_ eventful for Russia. During the world meeting, almost every country had turned against him on the issue of gay rights. It wasn't fair. It wasn't his fault! He was just following orders, and he couldn't change what his boss said… The echoes of their words swirled in his mind like a tornado, and he wanted nothing more than to stop them. Just to stop them….

_Hey Commie! You really need to stop this shit. It's not fair, bro!_

_Zat is true. Love is love, oui? You shouldn't be hurting people because of ze ones zey love._

_As much as I hate to agree with the frog, he's right, Ivan. You need to do something._

_Vat exactly are you planning on doing about zis, Ivan?! It's not alright. You need to fix vat you did wrong._

_Germany's right, ve! People should be allowed to love who they want and not-a fear you for it!_

Around and around and around they went in his mind, slamming up against the walls of his skull and making him feel even more guilty than he already did. They were Putin's laws, not his! And…it felt like he was dying inside right now. Every step he took, every breath, felt like his heart was being ripped out.

When he was sure everyone had gone, Ivan sat in his chair and placed his forehead against the cool metal of the conference table. "Shut up, da…." he hissed to the voices. "Shut up…please…"

He felt tears spring to his eyes when he began to beg with the voices, but they wouldn't stop.

_My people are working on getting marriage equality in all fifty states, dude._

_I gave __**my**__ people marriage equality ages ago._

_Don't forget about moi! _

"Be quiet…please…stop…" he said weakly, beginning to cry as the voices continued to yell at him. "It's not my fault…"

Matthew had come back into the conference room to grab the paperwork he'd forgotten on the conference table, only to be met with a sight he never thought he'd see. Ivan Braginski….was crying. He rushed over to him and kneeled down beside him. "Ivan?" he said in his soft voice. "Are you okay?" Of course he knew the answer. He'd been at the meeting. He'd seen everything. The only difference between him and the others is that he hadn't spoken up, one way or another.

Ivan simply shook his head no.

Matthew smiled sympathetically and placed his hand on the Russian's shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, getting up and actually sitting in the chair next to him as opposed to kneeling on the floor.

"It's not fair, da…" he whimpered, not looking Matthew in the eye. Matthew was always so kind and understanding, but this…this was beyond the small country.

"I know, Ivan…" Matthew said gently, rubbing his back soothingly. "You're just following orders. I completely understand. You can't change orders from your boss."

"It's not that, Matt," he said, his voice breaking from the tears he was trying so desperately to hold back now. "It's that…because of my boss…I can't get married in my own country."

Matthew's eyes went wide. "Are you saying what I think you are, Ivan?" he near whispered.

Ivan nodded. "I've been trying to protest his rules, but I only end up being tortured. I've got scars on my neck from it. It's why I always wear my scarf…" he said, the tears rolling down his cheeks silently now. "I want to be able to marry someone I love in my own country without being hurt! It's not…It's not fair that everyone else can and I can't! And I know that no one would love me anyways, but it would be nice to not have to go away to someone else's country, probably one that hates me, to marry someone…" He sniffled a little bit and looked down at his lap. "Eto prosto ne spravedlivo…[1]"

"Who says no one would love you, Ivan?" Matthew asked, bringing his hand underneath the other man's chin and tilting it up a bit so that he could look into his eyes. "You're plenty loveable. You're like a baby grizzly bear. You could kill someone if you needed to, but, in the right situations, you're really sweet and kind…" he murmured.

Ivan chuckled bitterly. "It doesn't matter, does it? I couldn't get married anyways!" he laughed sadly.

Matthew felt tears spring to his eyes at the Russian's words. He really did empathize with him. He was good at that. Empathizing with people. It made him horribly sad to see Ivan so depressed, so he quickly leaned over and kissed his tears away. "I'm here for you, Ivan…" he murmured when he pulled away. "And…if you want to marry someone, then come over to my country…" he said shyly. "We'd be happy to have you and its cold as hell, so it'll feel just like home."

Ivan felt himself blush the slightest bit when Matt kissed away his tears, but he ignored it for the moment. He simply wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. "Spasibo… [2]" he whispered in his ear. "Tak mnogo…[3]"

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><p><em><strong>[1] Eto prosto ne spravedlivo = It's just not fair.<strong>_

_**[2] Spasibo… = Thank you…**_

_**[3] Tak mnogo… = So much…**_

_**Sorry for the depressing chapter guys. I had to balance out the fluff from earlier. I figured that Ivan would be really bothered by the laws put into effect by Vladimir Putin regarding homosexuality, so this drabble was born. Being that it **__**is**__** on the subject of gay rights, I just want to state that what is going on in Russia is horrible, and this drabble is in no way trying to minimize the suffering of the gay community over there. I fully support gay rights, so what is going on over there is appalling to me. And, being that this is also a **__**bit**__** political, I just want to ask that no hate be left in the comments regarding gay marriage or any of that. You may dislike the idea all you like, but I don't want to see it in my reviews. If it shows up, your comment **__**WILL BE DELETED**__**. With my tirade over, I sincerely want to say that I hope you all enjoyed the feels filled chapter. With love, ~Cheylock**_


	12. Die Schönsten Blumen im Garten (PruHun)

_**Hello again, lovelies! Okay, I'm so sorry for not updating yesterday. I guess I didn't stick to my plan, huh? Lol. Anyways, expect three drabbles today as opposed to one! Yay! Anyways, make sure to review! It keeps me writing. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Die Schönsten Blumen im Garten: a teenage Prussia x teenage Hungary drabble<span>

The two of them had been friends for as long as he could remember. They would run through the fields fighting off imaginary dragons. She'd patched him up when he'd lost fights with bigger nations, and he'd done the same for her. They had made blanket forts in his living room and told each other ghost stories under the ghostly shadows their flashlights made. They'd climb trees in the forest and laugh at the other when they inevitably fell. They'd sworn that nothing would ever change. That they'd be best friends forever.

When Gilbert had decided to break that promise, he wasn't quite sure. Sure, he was still her best friend. That would always remain the same. But things had certainly changed between them, and it was all his fault. He'd let himself get too close to her and he'd ended up falling for her. It had begun to happen slowly; then, one day…it hit him like a wrecking ball. He suddenly realized how beautiful she really was; how her eyes sparkled in certain lighting, how her hair fell perfectly onto her shoulders and down her back. How her laugh rang like twinkling bells. He shook his head to clear his mind, as he was with her right now, and he couldn't afford to let those thoughts creep in.

Elizabeta and Gilbert were sitting outside in the field like they normally did after school when it wasn't raining or anything. It was a nice, sunny day, and birds were twittering in the treetops around them. There was only one thing that made this day different than any of the ones from their childhood. They were both older now. They were seniors in high school, and they both felt the pressure of college looming over them. Things couldn't stay like this forever. They'd be separated soon. And what made it worse was that Elizabeta felt the same way that Gilbert did. She was just too scared about losing him to do anything about it.

"Eliza…" Gilbert said, looking up at her. There was a shyness to his face that the Hungarian had never seen before. He'd been fiddling around with blades of grass up until that point, a sign that something was weighing on his mind.

"Yeah, Gil?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. He seemed…anxious. She'd never seen him like that. She'd seen him sad, and happy, and angry, but never anxious. It worried her a bit. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No, no," he chuckled weakly, glancing away from her. "It's just…we're gonna be separated from each other soon. College and all that. I…don't want to leave you, Lizzy," he sighed.

She smiled sadly at him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Who says? We both applied to the same colleges. Maybe one will take us both," she suggested.

"I doubt it…" he mumbled. As he looked around, he found a small bush of roses by the shrubs on the edge of the woods. He gulped, stood up, and went over to the bush. He knelt down and picked one single bud; it was a beautiful, bright red one. The largest of the ones on the bush.

"Gilbert? What are you doing?" she asked, watching him go.

He went back over to her and knelt down in front of her with the shy smile still on his lips. He gently tucked the rose bud behind her ear. "Die schönste Blume für die schönste Blume…" he murmured, looking into her eyes.

She blushed and looked down at the ground. "Gil, you know I don't speak German," she giggled.

He laughed a little bit. "It means…the most beautiful flower for the most beautiful flower…" he said softly, a small smile on his face as he did so.

That only served to deepen her blush. "Oh…" she mumbled, looking down at the grass. "Well thank you, Gilbert…I don't know what to say…"

"Then just listen…" he murmured. He took her hand in his own and sighed a bit. "Elizabeta…we've been friends forever. I know that. And I know that most people say that once a guy is in the friend-zone with a girl, he can never get out. I want to prove them wrong," he said softly. His heart was beating erratically as he said the words. Was he really doing this? "Lizzy…I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time. And the only reason I never said anything was because, on the chance you didn't like me in return…I wasn't about to lose you. Because you're still my best friend, and I just couldn't bear that."

Elizabeta's eyes widened when she heard those five little words leave his lips. _I'm in love with you_. He loved her? "Really?" she asked, tears of joy beginning to flood her eyes.

He nodded and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Really…" he said, a small smile toying at his lips as he did. "Whatever you say next…please don't leave, okay? I'd be a wreck without you."

"I could never leave you, Gil…" she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into the crook of his shoulder. "I love you too…"

He grinned and pulled away. "Seriously?" he laughed.

"Seriously," she laughed in return, resting her forehead against his. "I love you so much, Gilbert. I have for so long."

"Then…can I ask you something?" he asked gently.

"Of course. What is it?" she asked happily.

"May I kiss you, Lizzy?" he chuckled.

She nodded and closed the gap herself, pressing her lips to his gently and, in the process, knocking Gilbert down into the grass. Seeing as he was holding her, she fell on top of him.

Gilbert laughed against her lips, but continued to kiss her. He wouldn't give up this moment for anything in the world.

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><p><em><strong>Excuse me while I drown in the fluffiness that is this chapter. I ship Gilbert with <strong>__**far**__** too many people. I admit it. It's a problem. Oh well! More drabbles for you guys! Lol. :) ~Cheylock**_


	13. Mr Cellophane (AmeCan)

_**Second drabble of the day guys! See? I'm keeping my promise! Huzzah! Only one more today after this. It'll keep you guys from getting **__**too**__** spoiled. Lol, I kid. You guys are great. Make sure to review, okay? I love reading them, and they really do keep me writing these. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Mr. Cellophane: an America x Canada drabble<span>

"Matt, wait!" Alfred called, running down the hall after him. He'd been an idiot at the World Meeting, and he'd noted that, after crashing into Matthew while he was speaking, he hadn't even realized he'd arrived. The smaller nation had gotten mad and run out of the conference room, and Alfred needed to get him back. He needed to make this right.

After about five minutes, he finally caught him by the wrist and turned him around. "Mattie…I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean..." he began, only to be cut off by a smack across the face.

"Save it, Alfred…" Matthew growled, yanking his wrist out of the other's grip. He'd gotten stronger. A lot stronger. It was just that no one ever noticed.

"Matt…" he said softly, positively stunned by his reaction. "W-what was that for, dude?"

"I'm sick and tired of you and everyone else not noticing me!" he yelled, his normally quiet voice raising almost to normal volume. He was angry, and an angry Canadian wasn't one you ever wanted to see. _Ever_. "Just because I'm not the loudest, and because I don't contribute a lot at meetings, doesn't mean I don't exist, Alfred. Hell, Greece is asleep at most of the meetings! Does that mean he doesn't exist anymore?"

"Of course not," he said softly. Even though the Canadian was far shorter than him, he still felt like a child being scolded.

"Then why the hell does the fact that I'm quiet make me invisible to all of you?" he asked, an exasperated tone to his voice. "It's not fair to me."

"I know…" he murmured. "I'm sorry."

"What do I have to do, exactly? Declare war?" he asked, shaking his head a bit. He threw his hands out to the sides and rolled his eyes. "Because that's where I'm headed, Alfred. I don't want to, but if that's what it takes…"

Alfred placed his hands on Matthew's shoulders and sighed. "No, Matthew. That's not what you need to do."

"Then what?" he asked, a slight snarl to his voice. "What do I have to do?"

Alfred shrugged. "Something that makes an impression I guess? Something that makes them remember you," he suggested.

"Alright then…" he muttered, looking up at Alfred's bright blue eyes, his purple iris' locking with them. There was mischief glinting in them, though Alfred couldn't quite tell what had caused it. "Let's start with you, shall we?" And it was then that he pushed the American up against the wall.

"Matthew? What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes wide. Or at least, he'd started to. He was cut off when Matthew's lips collided against his own. He let out a startled noise against his lips. Well, he truly hadn't been expecting him to do that….

Matthew pinned Alfred against the wall and kissed him deeply, tangling his fingers into his hair and brushing Nantucket in the process. Because he'd grown up with him, he knew all his ticks. He knew just how to make him squirm.

Alfred gasped, allowing Matt's tongue into his mouth to explore and dance with his. He let out a soft groan, and finally melted into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist and held him close to himself. There was no point in arguing. Matthew was too strong now. He'd become a man, and he was certainly making that fact known.

A few moments later, he pulled away and smirked up at the flustered American. "Notice me now?" he purred.

Alfred nodded enthusiastically before pulling him back in and kissing him again.

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><p><em><strong>Okay, I know this one is short. AmerCan fans, please don't skin me! I love this ship just like my others, 'kay? It just so happened that this one turned out shorter than my others. Sorry! My next one will be longer, I promise! ~Cheylock<strong>_


	14. Dare I Say (AusHun)

_**Hey guys! Okay, so I didn't 100% keep my promise yesterday. I'm sorry! I fell asleep at my computer, lol. I didn't mean to. Anyways, only one drabble will be uploaded today, however, I'll upload two tomorrow. **__**Something to note though: the lyrics in this drabble do not belong to me. I didn't write them. They're the lyrics to a song called Dare I Say by Alexander Rybak. I adore his stuff, and this song was too perfect to not do a drabble based off of. :) If you want to go listen to it, here is the link: watch?v=Bydzj-QUpEI I recommend listening to it while you read. Make sure to review! It keeps me writing. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Dare I Say: a Hungary x Austria drabble<span>

Roderich had been working on writing this song for ages, and now…now it was finally done. He'd never expected it to take so long, however, the fact that he had to work on it when Elizabeta was out of the house sort of slowed him down a bit. He didn't regret it though. Not for a second. He was in love with her, after all… And what better way to show that (for him at least) than by writing her a song?

The Austrian rolled his shoulders the slightest bit. What most people didn't know is that, while he composed piano pieces…he also sang. And sang rather well, if he did say so himself. He had written lyrics to go along with the simple composition, and he began to slowly play out the melody on the piano keys in front of him. After a measure, he began to softly sing along.

_Far from the place where I'm writing this song_

_ There is a girl to whom my heart belongs._

_ She doesn't know that I'm thinking of her, but again_

_ That's not the point._

Elizabeta hadn't gone to Gilbert's for the day like she'd planned. The albino was sick, and she didn't want to catch his cold, so she'd just gone out to work in the garden. She was tending the lilies under the window of Roderich's music room when she heard a soft melody begin to wind out of the room. Was Roderich…singing? She'd never heard him sing before. _He has a wonderful voice_, she thought to herself.

_She makes me glad just by being alright,_

_ Though I would wish that just for one night, she would come back and again we'd be friends like those times where love never ends._

The piano picked up the slightest bit at this point, and Roderich smiled a bit as he played and sang. He'd really put all he had into this song; every feeling, every emotion he felt towards her was in here. It was practically his heart spilled onto the pages.

_Watching your picture I feel I'm with you, and your hand is flirting with mine. _

_ Maybe it's pointless, but what can I do, knowing you're one of a kind?_

_ Honestly I know I'll be fine._

Elizabeta had stopped fiddling with the flowers and the watering can and she just listened now. Not only was Roderich singing…he was singing about a girl. He was in love with someone. She couldn't help but wonder for a split second if it was her, but she pushed the thought aside as a silly daydream. _You just work for him,_ she reminded herself. _Nothing more. _

Roderich grinned as he got to the chorus.

_But dare I say you are amazing in every way?_

_ And would you mind if we woke up with each other each day?_

He sighed and his shoulders slumped a bit. This was the part that hit home the most for him. The part that he was brought back down to earth by.

_But then I remember that I'm just a guy, but still I keep dreaming of you_

_ 'Cause it's all I can do._

_ You said you loved him the last time we met._

_ Please tell your boyfriend that I'm not a threat._

_ I know the difference between right and wrong but again, that's not the point._

The last time he'd met with Elizabeta, he'd had a conversation with her about Gilbert. What he'd gotten from it was that she loved Gilbert. She'd been friends with him for years. How could she not? Besides, he was far more handsome than he was, and better with the ladies. He didn't stand a chance.

_Sometimes I sleep with a smile on my face because dreaming of you makes me glad._

_ And then I wake up when I'm still in my dream:_

_ The sweet kiss that we never had._

_ Honestly, how foolish is that?_

Elizabeta could feel her heart breaking as she listened to the sad lyrics of his love song. How could this girl not love him back? He was perfect in her eyes. He really was.

_But dare I say you are amazing in every way?_

_ And would you mind if we woke up with each other each day?_

Roderich sighed again as the song reached its heart-wrenching climax.

_But then I remember that I'm just a guy, but still I keep dreaming of you_

_ 'Cause it's all I can do._

He played furiously, with more passion than he ever had before. When he reached the end, he played the last few notes slowly.

_But dare I say you are amazing in every way?_

_ And would you mind if we woke up with each other each day?_

_ But then I remember that I'm just a guy._

And it was with that that Elizabeta felt her heart snap in two. Those final words. He didn't think he was good enough for whoever this girl was, and it made her want to cry. He was the best man she'd ever met in her life and…she loved him.

Roderich shut his eyes and just let the echo of those final chords swallow him up for the brief seconds before they faded away into nothingness. When they finally did, he tucked away his sheet music and put them inside his piano bench. He never wanted anyone to know he'd written that, especially the Hungarian for who it was written. He just wanted it to have her in his arms. Just once. Was that too much to ask?

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><p><em><strong>And there we have it, folks! The first of my drabbles to end without any sort of closure between the characters. AusHun fans, please don't skin me, lol. Instead, if you want a part two of this story, go and beg me in the reviews! Ciao! ~Cheylock<strong>_


	15. The Key To My Heart (USUK)

_**Bad writer, bad! I haven't updated in days! I'm so so so so sorry guys! :/ I feel awful about it. Here's one, and another should come before the end of the night, okay? No guarantees though, as I'm exhausted. I love you guys so much. Thanks for putting up with me. Make sure to review, 'kay? It keeps me writing. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>The Key to My Heart: a America x England drabble<span>

Arthur had found the note slipped into his briefcase when he got to his hotel room. He'd just been at a meeting with Alfred, Francis, and Antonio in New York City, so he knew it had to be from one of them. However, he couldn't quite bring himself to open it just yet.

The reason for the meeting was that America was going to war against Germany, and Alfred needed allies in a bad way. Well, his country did, anyways. Alfred was going to be posing as a human and serving alongside the men and women of his country. _Living out his hero fantasy, I guess…_ Arthur thought to himself. _He's a bloody idiot. He's going to get himself killed._

The folded piece of paper simply sat on the coffee table in front of him for fifteen minutes before curiosity overtook him and he picked it up. Carefully, he unfolded it and read what was written there. He recognized the handwriting immediately. It was from Alfred. Everything was slightly slanted, but the letters flowed together in the way Arthur had taught him when he was young.

_Meet me in Times Square_ _as soon as you get this. I'm outside the Crown Plaza Hotel._

Arthur sighed; however, he grabbed his coat and headed out to grab a cab. When he finally managed to hail one (a feat that he always found difficult in other countries), he directed the cab driver to take him to Times Square as he'd been asked to do. _This had better be important, Alfred…._

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><p>Alfred had been waiting for almost an hour outside the Crown Plaza already, and he shivered. It was mid-October, and the weather was beginning to cool off drastically.<p>

He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and looked around. Directly ahead of him was the M & M store, along with the Hershey's store right next to it. If he looked in either direction, he was simply met with a bustle of people along with the gorgeous scenery that they were all accustomed to living in New York.

Alfred was really going to miss it while he was away, but he knew he was doing the right thing by going. His men needed him. They needed all the men and women they could get at this point. Ludwig was a dangerous opponent, and so was his army.

Just then, the American was snapped out of his thoughts by a cab pulling up in front of him.

_So he listened. That's good,_ he thought to himself. _Considering this might be my last time talking to him._ The only thing that was different about Alfred currently was that he was wearing his army uniform. He was terrified. As soon as he was done talking to Arthur, he was going to get a cab to the airport. The plane would take him to Virginia, where he'd begin his training, and then…then he'd be off to Germany to fight.

He didn't let any of his fear show, however, and simply greeted Arthur as the Brit stepped out of the cab. "Hey Arthur," he said gently, not in his normal, loud tone of voice.

"Hello, Alfred. You wanted to see me?" he asked, holding the note in his left hand and quirking his eyebrow at him. He'd just seen him, after all. Why he'd wanted to see him again so soon was beyond him. But it was then that he noticed the uniform. _Oh…_ he thought. _He's leaving._

"Yeah, I did," he said with a nod. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed softly. This was going to be way harder than he initially anticipated. "I'm leaving as soon as we're done here. I'm going to Virginia, then Germany, and I won't be back for a few years."

Arthur felt his heart break when he heard those words. He wouldn't be able to see Alfred for who knows how many years? That sounded like hell on Earth, and yet it was his life right now. The man he was in love with was leaving for war in a few short moments, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. "Oh…" he said softly, looking down at the ground. He couldn't think of any other way to respond.

"I'll write to you and all that when I can, but I'm not sure how far in between the letters will be," he said apologetically.

"No, no. I don't care about that, Alfred. Just write when you can, and when it's safe," Arthur said gently, looking up at him with a weak smile. _At least he cares enough to write to me…_

"Okay, I will," he chuckled softly, locking eyes with those beautiful emerald eyes he loved so much, and then looking away shyly. "I….sort of got you something to remember me by…" he said, fishing around in his coat pocket.

"You did?" he asked, his eyebrows raising. He certainly hadn't been expecting that from Alfred of all people.

He nodded and finally pulled out a small box. "Here we are," he said before handing the box over to Arthur. "Go on, open it."

Arthur took the box from Alfred gently and hesitantly lifted the lid. "Oh Alfred…" he breathed. Inside the box was a delicate looking necklace. It was in the shape of a key, and at the top in place of the head of the key was a heart embedded with shimmering diamonds, sapphires, and rubies. They were in the shape of an American flag. "It's gorgeous."

"This is gonna sound cheesy as hell, but I'm going to say it anyways," he chuckled, taking Arthur's hand in his own and causing the note to flutter to the ground. "It's…sort of the key to my heart. I'm giving it to you, because you stole mine already, and I figured…you should have some sort of remembrance of that. Arthur Kirkland…I'm in love with you. And I'm sorry I'm telling you this before I take a plane away from you for god only knows how many years, but I figured you should know.."

Arthur cut off his nervous rambling by leaning up and kissing him sweetly. It was soft, yet passionate, and filled with all the things he'd wanted to say for so many years prior to this.

When he pulled away for air, Alfred blushed dark and looked into his eyes. "I…I'll take that as an 'I feel the same'?" he chuckled softly.

"Obviously, you git," he laughed before leaning up and kissing him again.

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><p><em><strong>I hope you guys liked this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it, as USUK is one of my favorite pairings (followed very shortly after by PruCan, AusHun, and Spamano). No, the war in this isn't based off any <strong>__**actual**__** war in history. Sorry. I don't research that carefully. However, if there's any parallels, I'd love to hear them! Leave them in the reviews, 'kay? Love you guys! ~Cheylock**_


	16. Jekyll & Hyde (GerIta)

_**Alright everyone, so I didn't get the second one up last night. Sorry. I was just too tired to. Anyways, it's here now, and you can definitely expect another one before the day is out. You have my word on that. It had occurred to me that (even though its one of the biggest ships in the fandom) I hadn't written a GerIta drabble yet! *gasp* I know, right? So, I'm going to **__**write **__**(hey, get it? I'm being punny today) that wrong **__**write**__** (two for one! Booya!) now. Enjoy! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Jekyll &amp; Hyde: a Italy (and 2P Italy) x Germany drabble<span>

"Feliciano! Get up; you're late for your training. Again," Ludwig barked, walking into the Italian's bedroom where he was still asleep. He groaned and rolled his eyes. When was he going to just learn to set an alarm in the morning? It really wasn't that difficult.

Feliciano sat up and yawned, rubbing his eyes. When he spotted Ludwig next to him, he smiled. "Ciao, Ludwig!" he said cheerfully.

"Ja, ja, hello," Ludwig said, a hint of annoyance to his voice. "Get up. It's time for training."

Feliciano pouted the slightest bit (which, though he had no idea, Ludwig thought was positively adorable) and sighed. "Alright…" he mumbled, standing up and going into his closet to change into his uniform.

After a few minutes, Feli came back out, now in his blue uniform as usual. "What are we doing today, captain?" he giggled happily, looking up at the German. His eyes were open for a change, so his beautiful amber ones locked with Ludwig's blue ones.

Ludwig couldn't help but smile a bit fondly at him. He may not be any good at it, but his enthusiasm was fairly sweet. "_You_ are going to be running laps before ve do anyzing. Go," he said sternly, nudging him out the door and onto the training field.

"How many?" Feli asked.

"Until you feel like you can't do any more. Zen add twenty to zat," he answered, which caused Feliciano to groan. But he didn't complain. He simply set off around the training field. Ludwig was only trying to get him to become a good soldier, after all.

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><p>Needless to say, training hadn't gone very well that day, which was why Ludwig ended up down at the pub at the end of his street. He'd gone with his brother, but Gilbert was now no where to be found. He was probably Frenching some girl in the alley behind the bar. He sighed and took a swig of his beer, letting the cold liquid trickle down his throat.<p>

_Why can't Italia just take training a bit more seriously?_ He thought to himself. _It could save his life someday. He just needs to be a bit tougher. A bit stronger. Then…he'd be perfect. _He shook his head to clear his mind. He shouldn't be having a thought like that about him. He was just his friend. Nothing more. Just a friend. _But god do I wish he was more…_

It was then that he felt the tap on his shoulder. Ludwig turned around, only to have his heart skip the slightest bit when he realized the man who had been occupying his thoughts all night was standing right behind him. He looked a bit different though. His hair was a little darker, and he had bright red eyes. "Feli…" he said, looking up at him. He was a bit intoxicated, so he didn't quite notice the differences at first. "Vat are you doing here?"

"I'm-a here to see you," the man chuckled, his voice a bit off as well. It was deeper, and the slightest bit more menacing. "Surprise, Luddy!"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow at the nickname, and then rolled his eyes. "Vat do you vant, Feliciano?" he mumbled, taking another drink of his beer. He was beginning to notice the differences, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

"Silly German," he said, sitting down next to him and leaning over to whisper in his ear, placing a hand on his leg in the process. "I want-a you."

_Okay, something is very off here_, Ludwig realized, looking over at Feliciano. He gulped and took a shaky breath to calm himself. _Breathe, Ludwig. No matter how long you've wanted to hear those words. Stay calm._ "You don't mean that," Ludwig said softly, looking down at his lap and removing Feli's hand from where it rested on his leg. "Something's wrong vith you."

Feliciano rolled his scarlet eyes and began to kiss down Ludwig's neck, which caused the larger man to shiver in spite of himself. "There's-a nothing wrong with me, Ludwig," he purred in his ear. "Come on. Just give in. You know you want to."

"N-nein…" Ludwig breathed, but he leaned his head to the side anyways to give Feliciano more access to his neck. He couldn't help it. It just felt too good. "Feliciano…zis is a bad idea. Ve're friends…it could mess zings up between us…"

"I don't care…" he murmured, nipping gently at his earlobe in the process.

That was it. That was all it took for Ludwig to unravel. That small little action combined with those words made him snap, and he looked over at him for the briefest second before leaning over and capturing his lips with his own. Deep down, he knew this was wrong. He knew something was wrong with Feliciano that was making him act this way, but he found that the part of himself that loved Feli didn't care about that. He'd wanted to do this for so long, and he couldn't quite seem to stop himself.

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><p>The next morning, Ludwig blinked awake and winced a bit as the sunshine shone through his curtains. For a brief moment, he thought that maybe the entire night before had been a dream. That is, until he looked over and saw Feliciano sleeping next to him. Then everything came flooding back to him. Every single detail from the night before, even though everything had passed in a blur. He had brought Feliciano back to his apartment.<p>

_You're sure you vant to do zis? _He'd asked.

_Absolutely._

Clothes had flown (he was fairly certain that both their shirts were still in the living room, along with at least his own belt), and they'd ended up in his bedroom.

His lips were still sore from how passionately they'd kissed, and he was sure that wasn't the only thing that was sore on Feliciano. The two of them had slept together last night, and honestly? Ludwig couldn't be happier. He _was_ in love with the other man, after all, though he didn't like to admit it to himself. Oh well. He'd certainly admitted it last night, to both himself and Feli.

He looked over at Feliciano and scanned his features. Everything seemed to be normal again. Maybe he'd made up the whole difference in his mind. When he noticed him beginning to stir, he smiled a bit and wrapped his arms around his waist before nuzzling his neck. "Guten morgen, mein lieb…" he murmured in his ear.

Feliciano smiled the slightest bit and hummed gently in response before the fact that Ludwig was in bed with him had completely registered. "G'morning…" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes before sitting bolt upright, his eyes wide and slightly panicked. "L-ludwig?!" he gasped.

Ludwig's heart sank. He knew there had been something wrong with him last night. The other must have been drunk or something. He didn't remember what had happened, which caused the German to blush out of shame. "Ja…its me…" he murmured. "Hallo, Feli."

"What happened last night?" Feliciano asked softly, a dark blush coming onto his cheeks as he realized what must have.

"Um….vell…I vas at ze pub, and you came up behind me and basically…seduced me," he said shyly. "You looked…a bit different, but I couldn't tell until it vas too late. I'm sorry Feli. I didn't mean to take advantage of you. Truly, I didn't…"

Feliciano mentally berated himself. "I forgot to take my medicine yesterday," he mumbled. That's what had caused the differences. The sudden forwardness, the change in eye and hair color…

Ludwig looked at him in confusion. "Vat are you talking about?" he asked.

"My medicine…it keeps a part of me hidden away," Feliciano explained. "There's a second me living inside me, and he's evil and mean, and he does anything he can to get what he wants. Well, what I want, but still! I…I named him Luciano. The medicine keeps him locked away. The last time he was out, he nearly had me kill my own brother, along with Antonio and all of them…he's-a really dangerous, Ludwig." By this point, he had begun to tear up.

Ludwig listened to him and, though he found it hard to believe, he'd seen it with his own eyes. He wrapped his arms around Feliciano and held him close. "Feli…" he murmured, gently stroking his hair. "Calm down. It's alright."

Feliciano slowly began to calm down and, once he had, he looked up at Ludwig. "Did we sleep together last night?" he asked sadly.

Ludwig could only nod in affirmation.

"Bastardo…" he muttered. "He took that away from me too. I d-don't remember it at all…" The tears he had been holding back slipped down his cheeks at that realization. Something he'd wanted to do for so long had actually happened, and yet…he couldn't remember any of it.

Ludwig felt his heart break at that. "Feliciano…look at me," he murmured, tilting his head up so that he could look into his eyes. "Vether ve slept together or not, it doesn't matter. If you don't remember it, it never happened, alright?" he said softly, gently wiping his tears away. "Our first time never happened, and it von't until you're ready for it to."

Feliciano sniffled a bit and nodded. "Si…" he murmured. "That…that sounds good. It never happened," he agreed.

Ludwig smiled a little bit and brushed some hair out of Feliciano's eyes. "Vould you maybe like to have dinner vith me tonight, Feli?" he asked softly.

Feliciano smiled and nodded a bit. "I would love to, Ludwig."

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><p><em><strong>Okay, I fall in love with these ships over and over again after I write drabbles about them. It's a real problem, omg. Anyways, I hope you guys liked that. I had the idea that maybe 2P's aren't completely different people, but that they are actually <strong>__**part**__** of the person they're opposite of, so this drabble was born. I like it, and I hope you guys did too. Love you guys! Make sure to leave me suggestions for future drabbles in the reviews, 'kay? **__** ~Cheylock**_


	17. Until Death Do Us Part (AusHun)

_**Hey guys. Sorry for being MIA. My school musical is soon, and I've been going mad with rehearsals and such. I'm going to try and write a bunch today to upload throughout this week, but no guarantees on anything, as it **__**is**__** show week. Anyways, this drabble was requested by Romania-chan, who requested a male!Hungary x Austria drabble. Here you are, lovely. **__** I hope you enjoy it. Everyone, make sure to review! I love getting the emails and reading all of them. They make me so happy. Make sure to leave suggestions for pairings too, as I ship almost everything, lol. And, if you like, you can even leave me prompts! In fact, I encourage you to, as I've been getting some writer's block recently. Love you guys! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Until Death Do Us Part: a male!Hungary x Austria drabble<span>

_Damn it, Italy. This had better work…_ Daniel Héderváry thought to himself as he paced the study floor. His economy had gone down the toilet in recent years and…he needed help; a lot of it. And…he couldn't deny it any longer. He had feelings for Roderich. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he had for longer than he cared to admit.

He was nervous, his heart thrumming in his chest. He'd told Feliciano about his problem (the economy thing, and, admittedly, his feelings for the Austrian as well), and the small country had come up with a simple solution: ask him to marry him. That was why he was currently pacing the study and nearly leaving a rut in the floorboards as he did so.

_ What if he says no?_ he thought. _I'll be so embarrassed, and he'll probably ask me to leave his house…is this even worth it?_ He thought then to the image of Roderich at his piano. He always looked so peaceful…so serene. How his eyes twinkled with enthusiasm. How passionate he was about everything he cared for.

The Hungarian then nodded to himself. "It's definitely worth it," he muttered under his breath. "You're in love with him, after all. It's a chance for it to happen, at the very least."

"A chance for what to happen?" Roderich asked from the doorway where he leant against it. He'd only heard the end of his sentence, so he wasn't sure number one: why he was talking to himself and number two: what he was talking about in the first place.

Daniel blushed dark and stopped pacing. "Hello, Mr. Austria…" he said softly, sitting down on the couch by the fireplace. "I trust you got Italy's message then?"

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here."

"Of course. Please, take a seat…" he said softly, patting the spot next to himself. "I have something to discuss with you."

Austria quirked a brow at her, but did as he told and sat down on the couch beside him. "What is it?" he asked, a little concerned. The last time he'd had "something to discuss", Daniel had gone off to war for three years. It was what had put him into his economic down-spiral now.

"I…have a proposition for you," he began shyly, looking down at his lap. His heart was going a mile a minute, and he sort of felt like he was going to throw up, but he powered through it. The ring had cost a lot, after all. This was his only chance. So, with that motivation in mind, he continued to talk. "As you know, my economy is slowly weakening…"

He nodded. The Hungarian had been taking loans anywhere she could get them during the war, but now that it was over, all the countries he'd gotten loans from wanted their money back, and Daniel just couldn't pay it. Not all at once like he was expected to do.

"My people are in a state of unrest and, unless my boss and I do something, there could be an uprising," he continued. "So…I consulted with some friends of mine… (which he didn't need to know was the boy wearing a dress in the garden outside) and one in particular made a suggestion to me. I thought I should bring up the idea with you, since you're involved in it."

"What is it?" he asked again. He wondered what on _earth_ one of Daniel's friends could have suggested. Was he going to ask for a loan?

Daniel let out a shaky breath and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the small velvet ring box. "I was…sort of wondering…if you'd marry me?" he asked softly, looking up at the Austrian with nervous, nearly pleading eyes. He didn't want to be turned down. He really didn't. Roderich meant too much to him for him to lose the other man.

Roderich's eyes went wide as soon as he saw the box. _No way. There is not __**possible**__ way that this is happening,_ he thought to himself. "Daniel…are you sure you know what you're doing? This is a big commitment. I mean, we're countries. We're immortal. Forever…it's a long time."

Daniel's heart sank. He could tell where this was leading. He was going to say no. He could tell. He nodded and looked into his eyes. "Yes…I'm absolutely sure," he said softly, taking a risk and leaning over to take his hand. "Not only would it strengthen both of our economies, but…I love you," he said gently, his voice nearly a whisper now.

"You do?" he asked, moving some of the man's scraggly brown hair out of his eyes. While he had it pushed back in a ponytail, strands slipped out of it from time to time and got in his eyes. He felt like he was walking on air. "Really?"

"How could I not? I spend so much time with you, we're practically married already," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Yes. I love you. So much," he murmured. "And if you don't want to marry me, I completely understand," he mumbled, looking down at his lap as he did so.

Roderich brought his hand to his cheek and tilted the Hungarian's head up so that he could look him in the eyes. "I love you too…" he said softly. "And…my answer is yes."

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><p><em><strong>I hope you enjoyed that, Romania-chan! It was a lot of fun to write (even though it took me an hour and a study hall to do so). Again, make sure to leave me comments about the chapter, and recommendations for future drabbles! Auf Wiedersehn! <strong>__** ~Cheylock**_


	18. ILiftMyLampBesidetheGoldenDoor (FrUs)

_**Hello everyone! Okay, so this one is going to be more historically accurate (o, at the very least, have historical roots to it, lol), so if you're not a fan of those, click off, 'kay? Though, if you weren't, I don't quite understand how you could watch Hetalia in the first place. Anyways, leave me reviews and recommendations and prompts and all that jazz. Arrivederci! **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>I Lift My Lamp Beside the Golden Door: an America x France drabble<span>

"Woah…dude, I don't quite know what to say except…thank you," Alfred said softly, looking out onto the Hudson River. There, in the middle of the river, silhouetted by a beautiful orange and pink sunset…was a shining copper woman. She held a book in one hand, and a torch in the other.

Over the past years, France had been trying to come up with a gift for America, until France's people finally came up with the idea for "Lady Liberty," as she would be called in later years. She was a gift to the American people from the French, but she hadn't been unveiled to the public yet. Oh no. Francis had flown to America especially for this moment and taken Alfred to Ellis Island. There was a viewing platform on the edge of the island and you could see the statue perfectly from there. Alfred was the first one besides the people who had made it and himself to see it in all its glory.

"You like it, zen?" Francis asked. If Alfred didn't know him as well as he did, he wouldn't have noticed the shy undertones to his words.

"No. I don't," Alfred said softly, and watched Francis' face fall and the Frenchman begin to stammer before hugging him tightly. "I love it, Francis!" he laughed. "This is the best gift anyone has ever given me and my country. Thank you. So much. I really can't thank you enough."

When he heard those words, Francis grinned. He wrapped his arms around the American in return (though he was taller than him, much to his frustration) and smiled. "I oversaw ze design myself. I'm glad you like it, Alfred," he chuckled softly, resting his head Alfred's shoulder.

"Seriously?" he asked, his eyes going wide. He didn't know Francis was into that kind of stuff. _Huh. Guess I learn something new every day,_ he thought to himself.

"Seriously," he laughed, looking up at him and ignoring how close they were and how fast his own heart was going. This was a big night for Alfred and his people. They finally had a symbol of freedom besides their flag, and it brought a lot of pride to himself to know that he'd brought it here.

"How come? You could have just let your workers handle it," he said gently, absentmindedly running a hand over Francis' hair.

At that, the Frenchman blushed slightly. "Because…" he said softly. "I wanted to make sure it was perfect for you. I mean your people!" He laughed a bit nervously. He was usually so smooth! What was happening to him? "I wanted it to be perfect for your people."

Alfred raised an eyebrow at him. "Dude, are you okay?" he asked, releasing him from his arms and looking down at him. "You seem a bit…well…nervous. Something bugging you?"

Francis shook his head. "Of course not!" he laughed. "Everyzing's great. Fantastic, even. Great, great, great."

"You said 'great' one too many times," he said gently, placing a hand on Francis' shoulder. "You're sure nothing's bugging you?"

Francis sighed. He couldn't hide this secret from him forever, but he could sure as hell try. He changed the subject. "Do you zink ze copper was a good choice?" he asked, leaning against the railing of the observation deck and looking out at the statue again. "Zey wanted to go with silver, but it would have been too expensive. I zink ze copper looks good, don't you?"

Alfred knew something was up, but he decided not to push him. If he wanted to tell him, he would in his own time. He wasn't going to force anything. He leaned on his arms against the railing as well. "I like the copper a lot. Not to mention, it should corrode to a nice bluish-green over time," he answered, looking over at him.

"Will it?" he asked. He didn't know that.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "It happens with our copper pennies all the time. Over time, they turn this pretty blue-green color. It'll look good on the statue too."

Francis smiled a bit. "I'm glad it'll look good even after many years," he said. _Just like you, _his mind added, and he mentally slapped himself. _Stop it. He doesn't feel zat way about you. Just let it go. You don't want to seem creepy. _

Alfred smiled in return, then looked back out at the water and the statue in the middle of it. Glancing back over at Francis quickly, he decided to finally make a move. After all, what better time? It was just the two of them, at sunset, with the breeze blowing the slightest bit to make it a bit chilly but not overly so. Shyly, he reached over and took Francis' hand in his own without saying a word.

Francis looked over at him, his heart picking up a bit from where it had calmed down. What was he doing?

"Francis?" he said softly, looking over at him again, this time turning his entire body so that he could face him without any more distractions.

"Oui?" he asked, looking down at their hands briefly before turning his gaze back up to meet Alfred's shimmering blue eyes. They matched the color of the river (or at least, they were very close to matching), and Francis thought they were beautiful.

"I know you already gave me one gift today…but I'm feeling kind of selfish. Can I have just one more?" he asked, moving close to him and looking down at him.

"Anyzing…" he near whispered, shivering a little bit as Alfred brushed his fingertips along his cheek.

"A kiss?" he breathed.

Francis felt like he would explode with happiness in that moment, however, on the outside he was as cool as a cucumber. "Of course, mon amour[1]…" he purred, moving forward and snaking his arms around Alfred's waist. Then, in one smooth move, he dipped him so that he was taller and Alfred was looking up at him from in his arms. He smirked a little bit before leaning down and kissing him in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty.

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><p><strong><em>[1] mon amour = my love<em>**

**_OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG DA FLUFF! I CAN'T HANDLE THIS! It was so fun to write! I hope you guys liked it! Clearly, this was based off the fact that France gave America the Statue of Liberty. I've known about that for a long time, and I just now figured out how to write it! Yay! Make sure to review, 'kay? Love you guys. __ ~Cheylock_**


	19. The Kalmar Union (DenIce)

_**Hello all! I'm back, and I'm fulfilling request from one of my lovely reviewers! **__**Amy Kitty Katz**__** requested that I do a DenIce chapter for her. Now, DenIce shippers, please don't skin me, but I really don't know a whole ton about the characters. I've been doing research, and I've found what I can, but I'm not 100% sure I'm going to get their personalities right. I'm gonna try though, because I love all of my reviewers, and I want to make them happy. This drabble is based off a snippet of info that I found on Wikipedia. It is as follows: **_ _**"**__**Eventually all of the Nordic states were united in one alliance, the**__**Kalmar Union**__**(1397–1523), but on its dissolution Iceland fell under Danish rule." ( wiki/History_of_Iceland) Anyways, I hope you guys like it, and that I don't butcher your characters too much. *welp* Here goes nothing… ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>The Kalmar Union: a Denmark x Iceland drabble<span>

Andersen Densen had been doing his best to not stare at the new guy in the conference room that day, but he just couldn't help it. He was fucking gorgeous! The bright purple eyes had been flicking over to him every so often, and every time it happened, the strange new Nordic country would avert his eyes and a faint blush would tint his cheeks.

The four Nordic nations (well, five now) had come together to form an alliance. The Kalmar Union, it had been called, and they had drawn up the agreement after many hours of discussion. However, the countries had gotten into a rather heated argument soon after, and the idea was scrapped. So, under a treaty that they had hastily constructed, the new country of Iceland was to fall under Danish rule (that was where Andersen came in). And he truly couldn't be happier. He'd only controlled countries briefly in the past, so this was rather exciting for him.

When they decided to call it a day, Andersen put his belongings into his briefcase and turned to go, only to be stopped when he bumped into one of the others.

"Horfa á það ...[1]" the other muttered, and he found that he was once again entranced by those purple irises.

"Jeg er ked af,[2]" the Dane said gently, then smiled. "You're Iceland, right?" he asked, holding out his hand to him. "I'm Denmark, but you can call me Andersen. I guess we're gonna be spending lots of time together, huh?"

Iceland hesitantly shook his hand. He wasn't quite sure what to think about this loud country. He was very….obnoxious, to say the least, as he'd proved during the meeting, but he couldn't help but see something bubbling beneath the surface. An almost child-like innocence that he thought was a bit endearing. "Emil," he said after releasing his hand. "Emil Steilsson. A pleasure."

The Dane grinned. He seemed nice enough, if not a bit quiet. "That's a nice name," he commented. "I assume it's Icelandic."

Emil rolled his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock…" he muttered, causing Andersen to laugh rather loudly. He shrank back the slightest bit. While he wasn't afraid of him, he didn't exactly _adore_ loud noises.

"You're alright," he chuckled happily. "I think I kinda like you, Emil."

Emil blushed the slightest bit and looked away. He wasn't used to that. People liking him. The only person who tolerated his cold demeanor was Lukas, and that was because they were brothers, and he was obligated to. "Þakka þér…[3]" he murmured shyly. He had to admit, Andersen _was_ kind of cute…

"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "I don't speak Icelandic, sorry…"

"It means thank you," he mumbled, picking up his briefcase from where he'd dropped it when Andersen had bumped into him.

Andersen decided to take a small shot in the dark. "Emil…would you like to go see a movie with me?" he asked, a little softer than his normal tone of voice. When he was nervous, his voice dropped in volume. It was just a small quirk that he didn't quite know why he had; he just sort of did.

Emil cocked his head to the side. "Í raun?[4]" he asked. "Me? There isn't anyone standing behind me, is there?"

Andersen laughed. "Of course not. I said your name, didn't I?" he chuckled, causing the Icelander to blush again, made all the more noticeable by his pale skin.

Emil thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Viss[5]…" he said. "I would love to," he clarified after a moment when he realized that Andersen looked confused. "You know, if I'm going to be under your rule, I'm going to need to teach you Icelandic," he chuckled softly, which caused Andersen to beam.

"You'd do that?" he asked him. No one had ever cared enough to teach him their language before. He'd only picked up English because everyone used it at World Meetings to communicate with each other.

"Of course I would. I don't want you flailing like an idiot," he said with a small smirk on his features.

Denmark smiled at him. "What movie would you like to see?" he asked.

After a moment, Emil's smirk grew even wider. "I hear Frozen is fantastic," he chuckled.

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><p><em><strong>[1] Horfa á það = Watch it<strong>_

_**[2] Jeg er ked af = I'm sorry**_

_**[3] Þakka þér = Thank you**_

_**[4] Í raun? = Really?**_

_**[5] Viss = Sure**_

_**Okay, that wasn't nearly as bad to write as I thought. I hope you guys liked it, and I hope it did **__**Amy Kitty Katz**__** justice in her request. Make sure to review! I love reading them! I'm so sorry for being absent for so long. Just school and all that. Anyways, I love you all and thanks so much for favoriting and such. It makes my day. **__** ~Cheylock**_


	20. Fireworks (GerIta)

_**Hello all! First of all, can I just say how in love I am with you all for leaving such nice reviews on my DenIce drabble? Seriously, thanks so much. I was really unsure about it, and you guys gave me the confidence to write outside my normal ships. Thanks so much! Okay, this next one is yet another request (this person actually made a few, and I'm going to do my best to fulfil them all). This one is from **__**Russia is mine**__**, and they requested some GerIta! Hope you like it hon. Make sure to review guys. It keeps me writing, and I absolutely adore getting the emails that say I got a review. They make me so happy. :) **__**~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Fireworks: a Germany x Italy drabble<span>

Ludwig took a drink from his pint as he listened to Gilbert talk on and on and on about something not at all important. His brother had dragged him to the new dance club in town, saying "Come on, West! It'll be good for you to get out!" Needless to say, clubs weren't quite his thing. He didn't know how to dance at all, really, and if he tried he only ended up embarrassing himself. Not to mention the fact that the club that Gilbert had brought him to…was a gay bar. Ludwig had just recently come out to his brother about his sexuality, and from that moment on the Prussian had been insufferable, trying to hook him up with people. This was only another attempt at that, he decided, and sighed a little.

Gilbert noticed the sigh and rolled his eyes. "Come on, West!" he said, echoing his words from earlier in the night. "Have some fun, will you? You looked like I kicked your puppy or some shit."

Ludwig took another sip of his beer. "I'm fine, Gilbert," he muttered. "I just don't like clubs much, okay?"

"Well, that's because you haven't met someone to dance with yet!" he said cheerfully. "And you would if you got your ass off of your bar stool and took a chance."

He was about to protest, but something stopped him. On the dance floor, he could see an auburn-haired man twirling across the floor with a beautiful girl giggling in his arms. Best friend, he concluded. She's his best friend out with him for the same reason that Gilbert was out with himself; to be his wingman (or in this case, wingwoman).

Gilbert noticed his gaze and smirked a bit. "Luddy…did someone catch your eye?" he asked teasingly, nudging him with his elbow, causing Ludwig to glare over at him.

"Shut up," he said. Gilbert raised his hands in mock defeat.

"All I'm saying is that, if you finally have an interest in somebody, you should go for it," he said with a shrug.

Ludwig glanced over at the man again, only to accidentally lock eyes with him. He had beautiful amber eyes. The German quickly glanced away, a light pink staining his cheeks. "How vould I even do zat?" he asked his brother after a moment.

Gilbert laughed. "So you _are _attracted to him! Good on you, Ludwig. As for making a move, here's an idea. _Just say hi_." He waved his hands in a mystical way. "It's really not that hard, dude. It's not rocket science. It's just a word."

Ludwig could feel the nerves building up inside himself before even approaching him. How on Earth was he supposed to talk to him?! The song ended, and a new one began. This one had a thumping beat that wasn't too overwhelming, but had Ludwig tapping his foot nonetheless.

Gilbert ordered the two of them another round while the new song started, and smirked when he noticed the auburn-haired man walking over to the bar. The man ordered a glass of red wine, and Gilbert tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to turn around.

"Salve, posso aiutarla?[1]" the man asked, looking up at him. Gilbert was taller than he was, so he actually had to tip his chin up a little bit to see his eyes.

Gilbert cocked his head to the side in confusion, only to grin when he realized what he was saying. He'd taken a semester of Italian in college, and never thought it would help with anything (it had just been to fill his foreign language requirement). How glad he was to realize he was wrong. "Ciao![2]" he said happily, looking down at him. He gestured over to Ludwig, who didn't even realize the exchange was going on, as he was talking to the bartender. "Hai incontrato mio fratello, Ludwig?[3]" he asked.

The man shook his head, but smiled when he looked over at the man whose name he now knew was Ludwig. He'd noticed him earlier, and thought he was rather cute. "No, non l'ho fatto[4]," he said. "L'ho notato prima però. Non sarebbe capita di essere disponibile, è vero?[5]"

Gilbert chuckled. "Completamente e assolutamente disponibile[6]," he confirmed. "Qual è il tuo nome in modo che posso presentarvi?[7]" he asked.

The man smiled at him. "Il mio nome è Feliciano. Feliciano Vargas,[8]" he said politely. "E voi?[9]"

"Gilbert," he chuckled. "Gilbert Beilschmidt." He turned then and tapped on Ludwig's shoulder, causing the taller man to turn around. "Luddy! Have you met Feliciano?" he asked, disappearing almost as soon as he'd asked the question to dance with a girl who had been eyeing him all night.

Ludwig blushed dark and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hallo," he murmured shyly.

"Hi! I'm Feliciano, as you know now," the Italian said chipperly. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Ludwig smiled a little bit. "Sure. I'd like zat," he said with a nod. "Just a beer, ja?"

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><p>The two of them ended up talking all that evening, and in the end, Ludwig ended up walking Feli home. They'd drank, laughed, and Feliciano had even taught Ludwig to dance a little bit. But now the dreaded moment had come. The final goodbye as they were standing outside of Feliciano's apartment complex.<p>

"I had a really nice time tonight, Ludwig," he started with a shy smile up at him.

"Ja…me too. I'll call you, okay?" he said softly, looking down at the man who had all but entranced him that night.

Feliciano nodded. "Well…I should-a get going. I don't want to keep my brother waiting…" he murmured, but he didn't move. He was hoping against hope that all the romantic movies he'd seen over the years weren't lying and that this was were he might just get a kiss goodnight.

"Alright…" he murmured in return, but he snaked an arm around his waist sneakily. His eyes flicked down to Feliciano's lips very briefly, and he blushed a little bit. You wouldn't think that the larger German would get this flustered by someone's interest, but it turned out that he did. He bit his lower lip as he thought for a moment, then decided to go for it. He brought a hand up to caress Feliciano's cheek and, slowly, leaned in and pressed his lips gently to his.

Feliciano felt his mind go blank for just a moment. All thoughts were positively wiped from his mind as he processed what was happening. And then, when he slowly began to kiss him back, only one thought rose to the surface of it all.

_**Fireworks.**_

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><p><em><strong>[1] Salve, posso aiutarla?= Hi, can I help you?<strong>_

_**[2] Ciao! = Hello!**_

_**[3] Hai incontrato mio fratello, Ludwig? = Have you met my brother, Ludwig?**_

_**[4] No, non l'ho fatto = No, I did not.**_

_**[5] L'ho notato prima però. Non sarebbe capita di essere disponibile, è vero? = I noticed him before though. He wouldn't happen to be available, would he?**_

_**[6] Completamente e assolutamente disponibile = Completely and utterly available**_

_**[7] Qual è il tuo nome in modo che posso presentarvi? = What is your name so that I can introduce you?**_

_**[8] Il mio nome è Feliciano. Feliciano Vargas. = My name is Feliciano. Feliciano Vargas.**_

_**[9] E voi? = And you?**_

_**DA FLUFF! ERMAHGERD! This was so fun to write, and I hoped you liked it **__**Russia is mine**__**. Make sure to review! By the by, almost all of my translations come from Google Translate (with the exception of the German ones), so if they aren't 100% accurate, please forgive me. Love you guys. Review! :) **__** ~Cheylock**_


	21. Together Again (GerIta)

_**Hello all! So, so sorry for being gone so long. I was in Germany on an exchange with my school, and you know, I didn't exactly have much time to write over there in between climbing the Kӧlner Dom (the Cologne cathedral), sprinting to catch a bus in Berlin, visiting a castle in Brühl, visiting Beethoven's birthplace in Bonn, and popping into the Netherlands for a day. It was a truly amazing experience, and I actually wrote this while on the 8 hour bus ride to Berlin! I hope you like it and that it is a suitable apology for me being gone so long. Tschuss! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Together Again: a HREGermany x Italy Drabble

Feliciano woke, drenched in a cold sweat for the third time that week. He kept having the same dream over and over again. It was Holy Rome, during the war...he kept imagining the boy he loved so much being torn apart by all the larger countries. It was too much for him, so he never stayed asleep long during them.

Feli had never seen Holy Rome again after he left that bright spring day in the courtyard. Before he left, though, he had given him something. It was a small necklace on a leather chord, and Feliciano wore it under his clothes constantly now. He had since he was a very small country, and would continue to until he was no more. It was a German Iron Cross. None of the other countries knew about it, and honestly? He didn't want them to. It felt like a special connection between himself and Holy Rome, and he didn't want that ruined because of one of the other countries. They could be awfully mean sometimes...

Italy got out of bed and slowly made his way down the hall to Ludwig's bedroom. He'd been staying with him indefinitely, as his own country was going through some financial hardships. Without making any noise, he opened the door, only to be met with Ludwig sitting up in bed with reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a romance novel in his hand. Not that Feliciano would know that, of course. It was in German, after all.

"Ludwig?" he asked softly, causing the German's head to snap up and close the book quickly.

"Feliciano. Vy didn't you knock?" he asked, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. He was still wearing his black tank top, however, now a pair of black sweatpants replaced his normal uniform trousers.

"Sorry..." he said, smiling shyly at him. "I-a had a nightmare, and I was-a wondering if I could sleep here with you?"

Ludwig's expression immediately softened. It was clear that the poor Italian was rather scared, so he moved over in his bed of make room for him. "Ja, I don't see vy not..." he murmured, patting the spot next to him in invitation.

Feliciano smiled a little bit and went over to cuddle up under the blanket next to Ludwig. When he did, he muttered a small "Gratzie" and went to close his eyes, but something stopped him. In the corner of the room was a small wooden push broom. He sat up and looked over at Ludwig, who had gone back to his book.

"What's that?" he asked, gesturing over to the corner that housed the cleaning instrument.

"Hm?" he hummed, not looking up from the novel.

"The broom, Ludwig. The push broom. Where did-a you get that?" he asked, taking the book out of Ludwig's hands, dog-earing the page, and setting it on the nightstand.

Ludwig felt his pulse skyrocket. Of course he knew who Feliciano was. He'd known ever since he'd found him in the tomato crate. He was his little Italy. He had never told him who he was, though. As far as Feliciano knew, Holy Rome had died in the war. "I...um..." he stammered, a little unsure of what to say.

"Answer me, Ludwig...please..." he said, taking his hand. He had to know if this meant what he thought it did.

Ludwig sighed. There was no point in denying it any longer. "I got it...from the love of my life," he said softly, looking over into Feliciano's now wide amber eyes. "Before I vent to var."

Feliciano put a hand over his mouth and looked at him with eyes filled with shock. "H-holy Rome?" he asked softly, reaching up and gently running his hand down his cheek. "Is it-a really you?"

Ludwig nodded. "Ja...hallo, Feli..." he said with a shy smile. "Miss me?"

Feli had tears of joy in his eyes now, and he tackle hugged the poor German, wrapping his arms around his neck and burying his face in his neck. "Sì, idiota!" he giggled. "Of course I did!"

Ludwig was a bit taken off guard by the hug, but after a moment he wrapped his arms around his waist and held him close. It had been so long. Holy Rome and Italy, finally together again. "Ich liebe dich, Feliciano..." he murmured. "I never stopped loving you, even ven I vas gone...even ven I kept my identity a secret...even now." Salty tears spilled over his own eyes now, but he didn't care. He finally had his Italy back.

Feli grinned and, before giving Ludwig the opportunity to protest, he kissed him sweetly. As sudden as the kiss was, though, it ended. He pulled away and kissed the tip of his nose. "Tì amo troppo..." he murmured happily. He then reached under the collar of his own shirt and took off the Iron Cross pendant. He held it out to Ludwig. "And I believe-a this belongs to you."

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><p><em><strong>Hope you guys liked it! I have my creative writing spirit back now that I've gotten out of my box, so expect way more drabbles to come! Also, expect LudwigGilbert to be featured in a lot of these, as inspiration hit me all the time while I was in Germany, so I have all sorts of prompts. Enjoy guys! It's good to be back. **__** ~Cheylock**_


	22. Torpedoes Aren't Toys (America x Germany

_**Alright guys, here's another drabble for you! As promised, it does in fact feature the lovely Ludwig, however, this one is also filling a request from the lovely **__**AnimeAngel2392**__**, who requested a America x Germany drabble (but don't worry hon. You'll get your America x Prussia one too. I'm good like that. ;) ). Hope you like it, sweetie. **__** Make sure to review, guys. I love seeing those emails and reading the reviews. Not to mention, if there's more reviews, people are more likely to read these! Yay! In all seriousness though, they really do keep me writing. I love you guys so much, and thanks for sticking with me. Love, ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Torpedoes Aren't Toys: a Germany x America drabble<span>

Ludwig sat in his office, pouring over paperwork. This was the biggest war his people had ever been involved in. A publisher over in England named H.G. Wells had been calling it "The War to End All Wars". Others were calling it "The Great War". Regardless of what people called it, it was huge. A world war. The first, and hopefully last, ever. And Ludwig had been stuck with all the paperwork involved.

"I should be fighting out there, not stuck in here…" he muttered to himself. He was a soldier by trade, after all. It was in his nature to want to fight, and being stuck in his little shoebox of an office was driving him positively mad.

He was snapped out of his thoughts, however, by a rather loud banging on the door. "LUDWIG!" a furious sounding voice yelled from outside.

"Come in," he said with a roll of his eyes. "It's open." At this point in the war, having other countries pounding on his door wasn't exactly uncommon.

Alfred stormed in and slammed the door behind himself. _Oh._ Ludwig thought. _That was certainly unexpected._

"What. THE HELL. Do your troops think they're doing?!" Alfred yelled at him, yanking him up by the collar and pinning him to the wall behind his chair. The only reason he was able to even consider doing that was because he'd caught the other man by surprise.

"Vat are you talking about?" Ludwig asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the action. "You're staying neutral! Ve haven't touched your troops!" There was a small edge of panic to his voice, however. He knew some of the other powers had been trying to get the US into the war. What if his troops _had_ done something in an attempt to do the same?

"Then explain _this_," Alfred snarled, taking a piece of newsprint out of his jacket pocket and holding it up. In big, black, block letters, the headline read "German U-Boats Sink 5 U.S. Merchant Ships".

Ludwig took the newsprint and sighed. "Zat isn't my doing, Alfred, I svear!" he said, the level of panic in his voice rising a little bit. "My troops must have acted on zeir own accord."

"Then _control them_!" Alfred yelled, slamming his hand on the wall only centimeters away from the side of the German's head. "Or so help me god, we will crush you so badly, you'll be paying reparations for years, Ludwig."

Ludwig felt a shock of terror rip through his chest. "I-I'll do vat I can…." he managed to stammer out. "But ze damage is already done, Alfred." He wanted to take back what his troops had done, but he couldn't.

"Oh? Tell me what you're planning to do," he said, mockery clear in his voice. "I'm positively begging you."

A number of scenarios flashed through Ludwig's mind in a millisecond, and looking back on it, he couldn't for the life of him recall why he arrived at the conclusion that this was the best one at the moment. Without saying another word, he closed the distance between them and captured Alfred's lips in a searing kiss.

Alfred let out a soft noise of surprise. Of all the things Ludwig could have done, he didn't for a moment think about this possibility. Though, as his lips moved against his own, he couldn't exactly find room for himself to argue.

It took a few moments for Ludwig's sense of reason to kick in, and even when it did, he ignored it. Alfred's body was pressed against his own, and in some odd way (even though it was fraternizing with the enemy at this point after what his troops had done) it felt…good. His arms went and wrapped around Alfred's waist and hesitantly pulled him a little closer to himself.

The American was truly shocked by the entire situation, but he didn't protest. To say that Ludwig was attractive was an understatement, after all, and the countries themselves didn't really care if a man was involved with another man… So, he kept kissing him and relishing in the feeling of his strong arms around him.

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><p>"I think I left those papers in here," Arthur Kirkland said as he headed down the hallway to the office. He was talking with the Baltics (Toris, Eduard, and Raivis), with whom he'd made a small trade agreement during a meeting the previous week. They'd used Ludwig's office simply because they happened to be in town for a world meeting, and they didn't have their own. Unfortunately, when he'd left, he'd forgotten the paperwork they needed to sign to make it official, so he was going back to get it.<p>

"I-it's not a problem, Arthur," Raivis piped up, looking up at the taller Brit. To be fair though, most of the countries were taller than him, with the exception of Wy, and she was a micronation, so she didn't even really count.

Arthur hummed in response when he came to the door and placed his hand on the knob. He turned it, swung open the door, and his eyes went wide. "Bloody hell…" he muttered, quickly shutting the door. He then turned to the Baltics and sighed. "We're getting the paperwork at another time, mates. Ludwig and Alfred are a bit busy in their _meeting_."

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><p><em><strong>Hope you guys liked it! Sorry it took so long for me to put this one up. I'd been having some computer issues. Oops. Anyways, here's this one! Also, I'm thinking of writing a GerIta fanfiction completely separate from this (a multi-chaptered one, naturally). Would you guys read it? Let me know in the comments! Love ya! ~Cheylock<strong>_


	23. Über Berlin (Prussia x America)

_**Hello lovelies! God I've missed writing these stupid little drabbles, lol. Finals are right around the corner for the majority of us, and some of you have probably already taken them in other parts of the country/world. My thoughts and prayers to the people who have finals soon, I included. We can do this, guys! :D Anyways, here's a new one for you! It's one that I came up with the idea for while I was in Germany in the shadow of the Brandenburg Gate. It's amazing, truly, and an experience I'll carry with me the rest of my life. This drabble ALSO satifies the request of the lovely **__**AnimeAngel2392 **__**for whom I wrote the last chapter. Go leave some love! Make sure to favorite, review, and alert this set of drabbles. It really does keep me writing, and it makes me so happy to see the reviews. Love you guys! Enjoy! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Über Berlin: a Prussia x America drabble<span>

Gilbert was nervous. How could he not be? He'd been friends with Alfred since the guy had been a small little country not even out of Arthur's control yet. And somehow, over the years…he'd developed feelings for him. He didn't know how, or why, but he had. And tonight he was finally going to act on it.

For Alfred's 200th birthday, Gilbert had surprised him with a trip to Germany for a week. He'd been acting as his personal tour guide throughout the country. They'd gone to Köln the first day and climbed all 572 stairs in the Kölner Dom (the Cologne cathedral), and then went to the EL-DE Haus, which had been a Gestapo prison during WWII. The next day, they'd gone to Bonn and went to the Beethoven Haus, which was were Beethoven had born, much to Roderich's distain. The same day, they went to the Haus der Geschichte, a German history museum that documented the events from 1945 to present day. Alfred had found that rather interesting, though seeing how his soldiers had treated some of the Germans was rather…trying to say the least, though Ivan's soldiers had been far worse in that regard. The day following they went to Brühl and went to Augustusburg Palace, which Alfred had been completely in awe of, and then went to the Max-Ernst Museum, a modern art museum that (though he'd never admit it) Alfred had been _insanely_ bored by. They'd hiked for four hours the day after and went to Dreilanderspunkt, a spot where you could be in three countries at once (Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands. One can only imagine the jokes that ensued after that.).

When they were done with the sightseeing in those places, the two of them got on a bus and rode for eight hours to the capitol of Berlin, where they had spent two days up until this point. Tonight was their last night in the city, and Gilbert wanted to make it as amazing as he could. The two of them had gone all around the city that day, visiting various places and eating traditional German food at various points as well (Alfred was particularly fond of schnitzel, along with white asparagus, which happened to be in season at the moment) along the way.

Sure, it _might_ have been cheating _slightly_ to ask for Francis' help planning his gesture, but he knew it was the best chance he had at sweeping the American off his feet. So, Francis had been busy all day at the top of the Brandenburg Gate to set everything up as Gil kept Alfred busy.

"Hey Gilbert? Where are we going?" Alfred asked curiously, looking over at the Prussian. The two of them had been walking through the park for about an hour now, which was lush and bright green all around them. Splats of color in the form of flowers lined the cobblestone paths, and it looked like the sky had been painted with watercolors, pinks and blues and oranges coming together in the beautiful painting that was that night's sunset. _God… _Alfred thought to himself. _All of Germany looks like it came out of a fairytale or something._

"Vas?[1]" the Prussian asked, looking up from the pavement just as he heard his phone chime. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. It was a text from Francis.

_Everything is set up, mon amie. Good luck. Use protection. ;) ~F_

Gilbert blushed the slightest bit and typed up a reply.

_We're on our way. Thanks so much, Francis. I really appreciate it. And (I say this with love) SHUT THE FUCK UP. XD –GB_

Gilbert put his phone away and grinned at Alfred. He took his hand and excitedly said "Come on! I'm going to show you something almost as awesome as me!" before dragging him out of the park and underground to a subway station about a block away.

"Where are we going?!" Alfred laughed, allowing himself to be dragged behind the Prussian as they got onto a subway train. "You never told me!"

"Es ist eine Überraschung![2]" Gilbert said happily, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a strip of black fabric. "Tie this around your eyes," he instructed.

"What? Bro, you're gonna kill me or some shit, aren't you?" Alfred teased, taking the strip of fabric anyways and flipping it over in his hands.

"Nein! I'd never do that!" Gilbert laughed. "It's so the surprise isn't ruined. It's just a blindfold. I'm going to guide you."

Alfred looked at him, hesitating for just a moment, before chuckling and nodding. He tied the piece of black fabric tightly around his eyes, turning anything in front of his eyes into black nothingness in the process.

"Gut![3]" Gilbert praised, adjusting it the slightest bit so it didn't snap the ridge of Alfred's glasses. He took a step back and held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked.

"Um…five?" Alfred guessed with a shrug.

"Wrong. Good," Gilbert laughed as they arrived at their stop. He took Alfred's hand again and guided him off the subway and up onto street level.

* * *

><p>"Dude, how much further?" Alfred asked. Once they'd exited the subway station, Gilbert had woven them through the groups of tourists and native Germans alike and led him to a small chain link fence where a security guard stood, preventing people from going to the top of the Gate. However, the guard was in on the surprise, and opened the gate for the two of them. Gilbert led him a bit further, hit the button for the small construction elevator that had been set up, and watched it come down.<p>

"Just a little further, I promise," Gilbert chuckled gently as the two of them got into the elevator. Gilbert hit the button, the doors closed, and the floor lurched, signaling their rising up the side of the Brandenburg Gate.

"Are we on an elevator?" Alfred asked, feeling the floor shift.

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Gilbert teased as the elevator continued to ascend. After about a minute and a half, it came to a stop, and Gilbert led him out. A strong gust of wind greeted them, and Gilbert smiled a little at the feeling. In all of Germany, this had to be his favorite spot in it.

Guiding him, Gilbert maneuvered Alfred so that he was standing right next to the statue that graced the top of the Gate. From up here, the statue itself looked even larger than down below, and it was glorious. "Okay…" he said gently, untying the blindfold, but holding it in place for just a moment longer. "Ready to see?" he asked.

"Of course I am!" Alfred said excitedly, rocking on his heels a little bit.

The Prussian grinned and dropped the blindfold from in front of Alfred's bright blue eyes, only to see them blink to adjust to the sunlight, and then widen when he realized where they were.

Alfred had to stop and just stare for about three minutes at the gorgeous view in front of them. You could see half the city from there, and the people below looked like ants on the sidewalks back home. The sunset had richened in its colors, and now beautiful lilacs and indigos joined the mix. Night was approaching, after all, and the moon was beginning to show its bright white face from behind one of the blood orange clouds. "Oh my god…Gilbert, this is amazing!" he breathed out, taking a step forward to get a better look.

Gilbert grinned and stepped along with him. But he wasn't looking at the view. He was looking at the expression of absolute wonder that had graced Alfred's features in that moment; his eyes brimming with awe at the sight before him, and a beaming smile spreading across not only his mouth, but his cheeks as well. _You did well, Beilschmidt… _he thought to himself. "I'm glad you like it," he murmured, wrapping his arm around Alfred's waist and smiling at him sweetly. "I have one other surprise though. Come on," he said gently before leading him behind the statue. Small pink and white candles graced the entire area behind it, with the exception of a ten foot area in the center. There, a silk picnic blanket was placed, with a small bouquet of roses next to a metal pail filled with ice. Champagne was chilling in the pail, and two champagne flutes sat criss-crossed in front of it.

Gilbert released Alfred's hand for just a moment, stepped over the candles, and picked up the bouquet of roses. He then went back over to the clearly stunned American, and handed them to him. "These are for you, Alfred…" he said softly. Shyness was clear in his voice, no matter how much he was trying to stifle it.

"Gil…what is all this?" Alfred asked softly, blushing a light pink as he took the roses from the Prussian's hand. They smelled divine, the scent wafting up on the gentle air currents that surrounded them.

Gilbert quickly poured two glasses of champagne and handed one of the flutes to Alfred. He took a sip of his own before speaking (as he needed all the courage he could get right now.) and looked up at him. "Alfred…you and I have been friends for many, many years. And I vill always treasure them. But…somewhere along the way I realized that my feelings for you _veren't _just the dorky friend stuff that I thought. I realized…that I'm in love with you…" he said shyly. "And…this vas a lame ass attempt by me to try and sveep you off your feet like they do in those romantic movies they make in your country."

Alfred nearly let his jaw drop to the ground at Gilbert's confession, but he managed to control his expression for the moment. He gently set the champagne flute and the bouquet of roses down on the ground for only a second, took two steps forward, gripped the front of Gilbert's shirt gently, pulled the Prussian close, and kissed him. And that kiss…god, that kiss was unlike anything Alfred had felt in his 200 years of existence. It was sweet, and slow, and so, _so _full of love.

When Alfred pulled away after about a minute for breath, Gilbert blinked at him in surprise. "V-vat vas that for?" he breathed, a dark blush painting his pale white cheeks.

"Are you blind, Gilbert?" Alfred chuckled gently, caressing Gilbert's cheek and letting his fingers gently trail along his skin. "I obviously love you too."

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><p><em><strong>[1] Was? (pronounced "vas") = What?<strong>_

_**[2] **__**Es ist eine Überraschung! = It is a surprise!**_

_**[3] Gut! = Good!**_

_**OMG I LOVE THESE DORKS SO MUCH! And holy shit, over 2,000 words for this one! This was so fun to write, and I hope you guys liked it! Love ya! ~Cheylock**_


	24. Trafalgar Square (Norway x Britain)

_**Hello, all! So, so sorry for not updating in so long. I feel awful about it, really. I've just gotten caught up in exam prep, and then the excitement of not having to go back to school for the whole summer now that they're done. I know, that's not an excuse, but whatever. It's the only one I've got. Anyways, I'm back now, and I'm here to fufil another request! This one was sent in a while ago by **__**Dragon Skellington**__**, and they had requested that I write a Fairy Pair (England x Norway) drabble. I'm sorry I haven't gotten to it until now. I've been researching the history between the two countries to see how I could make it work, and so here we go! I decided to base this drabble off one of the relations that I found, and I hope I do it decently, as the only Nordic country I write often is Denmark, so I hope I don't butcher Norway too badly. Anyways, here's you drabble **__**Dragon Skellington**__**. I hope you enjoy it! Make sure to review, everybody! And make requests for future pairings! It doesn't matter if I've written them before (one can never use too much fluff!). The reviews really do keep me writing. Love you all, and thanks for being so patient! Love, ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Trafalgar Square: a Britain x Norway drabble<span>

"_Each year for the last 60 years__Newcastle upon Tyne__has received a__Christmas tree__as a gift from the people of__Bergen__, one of Newcastle's twin cities. The impressive Norwegian spruce, standing at 45 feet tall, was personally felled by__Gunnar Bakke__who has been the mayor of Newcastle's twin city since September 2007. Each year the tree is decorated in traditional Norwegian white lights and is a symbol of peace and goodwill. The people of Norway also send a tree to the town of Great Grimsby every Christmas since the end of World War II, For the past few years the tree has been selected by the people of Sortland."_ At least, that was what the Internet had to say on the matter. All that really mattered to Arthur was that his friend Lukas was finally coming back to England!

He'd missed him a lot, and hadn't seen him since the last world meeting months ago. And now that it was around the holidays, Arthur felt more lonely than ever. All the other countries thought he was too brash, too strict. They felt like he was a crotchety old man now. He wasn't, though! He was the United bloody Kindom, but even so…everyone was together at this time of year. Except him. He was always left out in the figurative (and sometimes literal) cold during Christmas time, and left to find his way back to his flat, light a fire, make some tea, and spend yet another holiday alone. But not this year! No sir. He'd been making plans with Lukas for about a week now, and the Norwegian was going to be staying with him through the holiday so he wouldn't get stuck in any of England's famous snow storms and have to stay at the airport.

So now, the Brit was bustling around his flat, making sure everything was in order. The Christmas tree had been erected in Trafalgar Square earlier that very day, and his people were busying themselves in decorating the magnificent spruce with the twinkling Norwegian lights that Lukas himself had helped pick out, however, Lukas himself had had a delay on his flight, and wouldn't be in until a few hours after the tree arrived. This was _completely_ fine by Arthur, as it meant that he had time to tidy his flat (and himself) up a bit, and even decorate a little bit. He'd decided, since Lukas was a fellow magician, that he was going to use a little magic to do so. He had created orbs of floating light energy and placed them strategically around the room, as well as making a glass Christmas tree and setting it in the middle of the coffee table.

Just as he was finishing straightening his couch cushions, he heard a knock at the door. His heart picked up pace, and he grinned. "Coming!" he called, making his way over to the door. He checked his appearance one last time in the mirror beside the door, straightened his button down, and opened the door.

"Hello, Lukas," he said with a smile. The poor Norwegian was holding a suitcase, and looked absolutely freezing (ironic, considering the climate he normally lives in). "Come in, come in," he ushered, helping him inside.

"Hello, Arthur. Long time no see," Lukas stated, gladly taking the invitation to come inside and brushing snow off of his jacket as he went. He shut the door behind himself and looked over at the Brit. "Apologies for being late. My plane got delayed."

"I heard," Arthur chuckled softly, walking behind him and helping him out of his jacket. "No worries. It gave me more time to tidy up. Alfred was here a few weeks ago and trashed the place, so I had some serious cleaning to do before your arrival."

Lukas looked behind him and nodded. "I'm glad it didn't inconvenience you at all. I would have felt bad about it."

"Not at all," Arthur smiled. "Can I get you some tea? You seem cold. Go warm yourself up by the fire and I'll put the kettle on."

Lukas cocked an eyebrow slightly at that. Arthur was acting…a little different, to say the least. He was being very kind and sweet. It was odd to him. Of course, he'd seen him act that way towards Alfred when the two of them were together, but…no. No way. Could Arthur be trying to win him over? "Okay…" he said softly, loosening his tie a little and going to warm himself by the fire.

* * *

><p>The two of them had stayed up until the wee hours of the night catching up with each other. Lukas had adored the floating light orbs around the room, and Arthur had taught him the spell with an ease that only came from centuries of practice. Current events and politics were discussed, as well as petty gossip about the other countries. Overall, it had been a lovely evening, but the moment Arthur had dreaded all night was just around the corner. Showing Lukas to his room.<p>

He led the Norwegian down a corridor, then to the left, and gestured with his arm to the door. "This is yours," he said softly.

Lukas nodded slowly. Of course this was his room. He'd stayed in the same room whenever he stayed with Arthur. Why had he showed him to his room this time…? "Alright…" he said slowly. "Goodnight, Arthur."

"Hey…Lukas?" he asked softly, looking over at him and trying his best to not get lost in the violet pools that were the other's wide eyes.

"Yes, Arthur?" he asked, placing his suitcase against the wall and leaning against the doorframe.

Arthur stepped into the doorway as well, and (almost hesitantly) wrapped his arms around Lukas' waist, pulling the other man close to him. He brushed a stray hair out of his eyes and smiled at him. Only if you'd known Arthur as long as Lukas had could you tell that it was a shy one. Arthur had leaned in so that their lips were only about a centimeter apart. "Look up, Luke…" he breathed, his lips ghosting over the other's as he spoke.

Lukas' heartbeat has skyrocketed as soon as Arthur had touched him, and only continued to rise at his following actions until he was sure it was going to beat out from his ribs. He did as he was told, however, and turned his eyes up towards the ceiling. Above them, hanging in the doorway…was a small sprig of green with white berries. Mistletoe. He blushed darkly and brought his eyes back to the bright emerald ones in front of him, and smiled a little. "Merry Christmas, Arthur…" he breathed before closing the distance between them and pressing his lips sweetly to the Brit's.


	25. Aye Aye, Captain! (Spamano)

_**Hello all! Thanks so much for the kind words on my last drabble. I was really uncertain about it, and the amazing reviews really helped boost my confidence about it. Also, big announcement: this collection of drabbles has recently passed 12,000 views! I love you guys all so much for making this so popular. It really makes me more confident about my writing. **__** Let's try and get it to 20,000, okay! It'd make my month! Okay, back to pressing matters. This drabbles is for **__**Everyone is a friend**__**, who requested some Spamano a while ago! Enjoy, and make sure to review. It keeps me writing. Love you guys! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Aye Aye, Captain!: a Spain x Romano drabble<span>

Normally, Lovino wouldn't be wandering around Antonio's house willy-nilly. However, normally he wouldn't be alone their either. Antonio had gone to an urgent meeting with Arthur and Francis, leaving the Italian alone to his own devices in the suddenly empty house. Generally, Antonio was very strict about Lovino wandering around (one of the few things the Spaniard _was_ strict about), but since he wasn't here…well, all bets were off. He had already explored the kitchen, as well as the gardens and some of the guest rooms, but then he reached the door of a room that caught his attention: Antonio's bedroom.

He hesitated only a moment before going inside. The room was fairly spacious in its design: a queen size bed was pushed against one wall, a fluffy comforter along with many pillows adorning the top of it. Next to it on either side were small, wooden nightstands that held lamps with black shades on top of them. In the corner was a rather comfortable looking brown suede chair with a book parted over one of the arms. The title was "Para ganar su corazón [1]" written in looping cursive across the cover. Next to the chair was a pair of glass doors that led out onto the balcony of the room, and if one were to go out onto it, you could overlook almost the entire city of Pamplona. Cream colored curtains that hung over them lilted gently in the slight breeze created by one of the doors being cracked.

Lovino whistled appreciatively. For someone so obnoxious, at least Antonio knew how to decorate for himself. He looked around for a few moments before spotting a door in the other corner. He smirked a bit when he realized what it must be. It was Antonio's closet. _Hmmmm…_ he thought to himself. _Well, you're not going to gain anything from just standing here, idiota! Go look!_

He shook himself a little to get himself out of his slight daze and headed over to the closet. He cracked open the door, only to be met with about four racks of clothes in different shades. He beamed and made his way further inside. If there was one thing Italian's were renowned for (besides their pasta and pizza), it was their fashion sense.

Upon further inspection, he realized that not only were there clothes overlapping clothes, there was also a ledge above that apparently held hats, and a small one underneath as well for shoes. He laughed a little at that. _Oh Antonio. How like you. _

He began to flip through the clothes on the racks, eyes skimming over the articles of clothing appraisingly as he did so. God, the Spaniard sure had a lot of clothes… Jeans, t-shirts, suits, trousers, blazers, button downs, ties in every shade imaginable and then…oh, what was that? He flipped back a few shirts and raised his eyebrows. He knew that Arthur had told him about it in the past but he'd never expected to actually see it in real life. Before him, draped caringly over a hanger, was Antonio's old pirate uniform.

"Non c'è modo [2]…" he breathed, plucking the uniform off the rack and taking it out into the room to examine it in better lighting. Sure enough, it was what he'd believed it to be. A crisp white shirt with slightly ruffled sleeves laid underneath a bright scarlet coat that was trimmed with black. Gold tassels hung off the shoulders of the jacket, and gold piping ran along the cuffs of it as well. Underneath the shirt, folded over the bottom of the hanger, was a pair of brown trousers with what appeared to be a gold sash wrapped around the waist. A white cravat was tied lovingly around the neck of the hanger.

He placed the uniform gently on the bed and ventured back into the closet where, sure enough, he managed to find the rest of the uniform. Up on the shelf above, he had found a brown, three cornered hat that had an almost obnoxiously large feather stuck in it. On the shelf below, he'd found a pair of well worn black, knee high boots. He brought those out into the room as well, and grinned. Well…he just _had_ to try it on, right? It wasn't every day he had access to a genuine pirate uniform, after all. And besides, it's not like Antonio would ever give him _permission_ to try it on. He _had_ been snooping, and if he asked, Antonio would know. If he put everything back correctly, it wouldn't be a bad thing, right?

Fairly quickly, he managed to strip out of the simple outfit he'd been wearing before (a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, a navy blue tie, and black skinny jeans). He stood contemplating his next move for a moment before deciding to _yes_, he was going to do it. He took the uniform off the hanger and slipped on the pants and boots first, quickly followed by buttoning up the white shirt (and admittedly swinging his arms up and down a little to watch the puffy sleeves flap) and tying the cravat under the collar of the shirt. He had a little trouble with that, as he'd never actually tied a cravat before, but he managed to get it after a few moments. He shrugged the coat over his shoulders and grunted slightly from the weight of it. He hadn't quite been expecting that. Once he got used to it, however, it was pretty great. It made him feel powerful, as stupid as that sounded. Finally, he reached over onto the bed and picked up the hat, which he promptly placed over his dark brown hair. His curl stuck out from under the hat stubbornly, but he decided not to screw with it. After all, it _was_ his erogenous zone, so he avoided touching it at all costs if he could.

Once he finished getting dressed, he swung the closet door open. On the inside of the door hung a full body mirror, and he decided to take a look at his reflection. "Not-a bad," he smirked, smoothing out the white shirt underneath and turning to the side. It was true. It was like the uniform had been made for him instead of Antonio. It fit perfectly, hugging his body in ways he could only dream of. He looked sexy, dangerous, and all around amazing.

* * *

><p>Downstairs, the door swung open and a certain Spaniard walked through the door. The meeting with Arthur and Francis hadn't taken as long as he'd thought it would (although, in his mind, it had still taken <em>far<em> too long), and so now he was back early and utterly exhausted. The sexual tension between the Frenchman and the Brit had been completely draining. When were they just going to get together? It was affecting others now! However, one thought sounded perfect at that moment: a nice, long siesta.

He took off his coat and hung it on the hook by the door before heading over towards the stairwell. As he made his way up the stairs, he loosened his tie before finally taking it off. He hated wearing ties, but they were a necessity to look "professional". Oh well. He had to, so he did.

Briefly, he wondered why he hadn't seen Lovino yet on his way inside. He concluded that he must have had the same idea he himself had, and so he must be sleeping in his room. It made perfect sense, really.

He opened the door to his room, expecting to see it empty, but instead greeted by a sight that made his jaw drop nearly to the floor. Lovino…was wearing his old pirate uniform. Oh god…was he dreaming? This had to be some sort of fantasy… He pinched himself lightly and hissed softly. _Okay. Not a dream. Definitely reality_, he thought to himself. _Quick, say something smooth. What would you say? You stumble over your own words __**regularly**__! Come on, he'll notice you before you say anything if you don't! Talk, dammit! _

He leaned against the doorframe, popped the first button on his shirt, licked his lips to moisten them (because for some reason, as soon as he'd seen Lovino like that, they'd gone completely dry), and smirked. "Why hello sailor," he purred, his accent thick as he spoke.

Lovino whipped around, instantly turning a brighter red than one of the other's tomatoes, and his eyes went wide. "Antonio!" he said shyly. He was just completely caught off guard by the whole situation. "C-ciao! I was just…um…you know…"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, cariño [3]," he murmured, making his way over to him and gripping onto the jacket. The smirk never left his features. "Although, I'm pretty sure you dipped into my brain and plucked out one of my fantasies to put this together…"

If it was even possible for the Italian to blush darker, he did. "I-idiota! What are you talking about?" he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

"I think you know," he purred, leaning down and slowly beginning to kiss up his neck. "I've always wanted to see you like this…"

"R-really?" he breathed, subconsciously leaning his head to the side slightly to give him more access. God, he couldn't believe this was happening. He'd wanted Antonio for ages now. He'd loved him for even longer. And it was finally happening!

"Si…" he growled, biting down lightly at the junction between his neck and his jaw and eliciting a soft groan from the other. "It's been a fantasy of mine for a long time now…"

"Oh…" he breathed, shutting his eyes briefly before opening them and smirking. "Does that mean…you want your captain to give you orders?" he asked, moving so that Antonio's back was against the wall.

Antonio's heart beat picked up and his mouth went dry. All he could manage was a feeble nod.

"Well then, Mister Carriedo. On-a your knees," he growled, pushing the Spaniard down onto his knees, and the other was all too happy to oblige.

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><p><em><strong>[1] Para ganar su corazón = To win her heart<strong>_

_**[2] Non c'è modo = No way**_

_**[3]**_ _**cariño = sweetheart**_


	26. Tangled (Itacest)

_**Hello all! So this drabble right here is actually part of a stockpile that I'm creating for myself so I stop falling so behind and upsetting you guys, lol. This one is for **__**Amy Kitty Katz**__**, who requested some Itacest. If you don't like the incest pairings, you can click off of this one, but hey. It floats some people's boats. Enjoy! And make sure to review this chapter and any others that tickle your fancy. **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Tangled: an Italy x Romano drabble<span>

"Bastardo! Stop-a kicking me or so help me, next time the foot comes _off_," Lovino grumbled, pulling the covers over his head. He'd been staying with Feliciano for a little while, as he'd had a bit of an argument with Antonio that resulted in him getting kicked out of the house for the time being. Currently, it was eleven in the morning, and Lovino was _attempting_ to sleep, but Feliciano kept kicking him in his. Right in between the ribs! It hurt, and it was always when he was on the brink of sleep. It sucked.

"G-Germany, stop that…" he heard from beside him, only to look over and see his brother with a giddy smile on his face. The giggle that ensued grated on his nerves until he couldn't take anymore. He sat up and shook the other's shoulders lightly.

"Feliciano, wake up," he muttered, and the other slowly rolled his shoulders before sitting up and yawning.

"Ciao, fratello! [1]" Feliciano chimed happily. Oh yeah. Lovino had forgotten. Feli was a morning person. _Great…_

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, rubbing his own eyes. He was so damned tired…

"Are-a you okay, fratello?" Feliciano asked, a little concerned at the other's tone. He knew Lovi wasn't a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but there was annoyance in his voice currently. Oh, he hoped he hadn't done anything to upset him!

"Oh, yeah," he said sarcastically. "I only spent about a quarter of the night being kicked in the ribs and hearing you mumble about the potato bastard that is Ludwig Beilschmidt."

Feliciano blushed a little at that and looked away. "Sorry, Lovino…" he said softly. "I-a didn't mean to do that, and I can't-a control my feet while I'm asleep…"

Lovino sighed and rubbed his temples. "I know…" he muttered. He tried to get out of bed then, when a sudden shock of pleasure ran through him and a soft moan made its way past his lips. Apparently Feliciano had felt it too, because he heard a groan from beside him.

"What the hell?" he asked, turning to face him. He felt a soft tug at his head, and that pleasure was back. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from making any noise that time. Very carefully, he looked up. "Crap," he muttered. Their curls were tangled together.

Feliciano was positively beet red at that point, as he'd been letting out soft noises with every little tug that had occurred thus far. "F-fratello…what's-a wrong?" he breathed. This wasn't the breathy tone he had when he finished a long session of training with Ludwig, however. No…this tone was different. There was a soft undertone of something else there: lust.

"Our curls are tangled…" he said softly, leaning up and quickly untangling the stray pieces of hair. He wasn't about to tell Feliciano that he'd gotten it though. Not when he was making those kinds of noises next to him.

"C-can you get it?" he asked, a moan getting caught in his throat when suddenly Lovino gave it a sharp tug.

"Just did…" Lovino breathed in his ear. Okay, so maybe he _was_ going to tell him. He was a somewhat decent guy when he wanted to be, after all, and he didn't want to mess with it without his permission. After all, his own curl did the same thing to him, and he wouldn't want someone doing this without _his_ permission, so he figured he'd give Feliciano the same courtesy.

"Then-a…why is your hand still on it?" he asked softly, a slight shiver running down his spine at the feeling of Lovino's breath in his ear. The other's lips trailed softly along his skin as he'd spoken, and had sent slight shocks through him.

"Feliciano…I know how wound-a up you must be…" he murmured, leaning down further and trailing his lips gently along the curve of his neck. "I am too. Would you like me to help you out?"

"I…uh…I don't-a quite get your meaning…" he breathed. Was Lovino offering to do what he thought he was?

"Let me rephrase," he purred deeply in his ear, his accent becoming thicker as he spoke. "Sono cornea ora. Sei cornea ora. Prendiamo cura l'uno dell'altro… [2]"

Feliciano's breathing hitched for a moment at his words. God…the words were true…but with his brother? Was he really that desperate for release that he'd stoop that low? Just then, however, Lovino tugged roughly at his curl, and his question was answered. Yes. Yes, he _would_ stoop that low. "V-va bene [3]…" he whimpered. "P-prendersi cura di me…per favore…[4]"

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><p>Almost two hours later, the two brothers fell back against the pillows of the bed, panting and positively spent. Feliciano knew he was going to be insanely sore tomorrow, but right now he didn't care at all. It had felt too good and, once they'd started, he forgot completely that it was, in fact, Lovino doing that with him. It was just an extremely skilled lover to him, really. "Dio mio…[5]" Feliciano breathed. "That-a was amazing…"<p>

Lovino nodded in agreement and wrapped his arms around the smaller Italian. "Si…it was," he breathed gently.

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><p><em><strong>[1] Ciao, fratello! = Hi, brother! <strong>_

_**[2] Sono cornea ora. Sei cornea ora. Prendiamo cura l'uno dell'altro. = I'm horny now. You're horny now. Let's take care of each other.**_

_**[3] Va bene = Alright**_

_**[4] Prendersi cura di me… per favore… = Take care of me…please…**_

_**[5] Dio mio = Oh my god**_


	27. Slender (AmeriPan)

_**Okay, so after those last two rather smexy chapters (*cough* PIRATE ROMANO *cough*), I decided that this one is going to be more fluffy than anything else.. This one was requested by the lovely **__**I 3 Canada**__**. Hope you like it, sweetie, along with the rest of you. Make sure to review, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. :) Enjoy! **__**~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Slender: an America x Japan drabble<span>

Kiku had been minding his own business at home, sipping some tea that he'd made earlier, when his phone chimed. He looked down and smiled a little. It was a text from Alfred. The two of them had formed a friendship over the course of a couple years now, and they were on surprisingly good terms after what had happened in their histories.

_Hey dude! I just got a new horror video game online! Wanna come and play with me? –AFJ_

Kiku typed out a quick response, then stood up to go get himself ready.

**I'd love to, Alfred. I'll be over in a half an hour. –Kiku**

He headed upstairs to his bedroom and skimmed through his closet for a quick moment before deciding on what to wear. Since this was a casual day, he decided on simple grey trousers, a tan button down, and a loose fitting green jacket. He changed out of his pajamas and into the clothes he had picked out, slipped on his shoes, then assessed his appearance in the mirror.

Sure, he had had a crush on Alfred for a while. _So what? _he tried to tell himself. _You've always been concerned with your appearance. Right? _He sighed a little and shook his head. He really was hopeless. How could he possibly win Alfred over when he was so quiet and the other was so…_not_. He didn't even know how the crush had developed! One day, he had been teaching Alfred to make bento boxes for his lunch, and then their hands brushed and…the crush was just suddenly there. Now it hurt every time he looked at him because he knew that the other only saw him as a friend. And there was certainly nothing he could do about it.

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><p>A half an hour later, Kiku knocked at Alfred's door, rocking a little on his heels as he waited for the American to open it.<p>

Alfred beamed from where he sat on the couch when he heard the knock at the door. "Coming!" he called, standing up and heading to the door. He'd only been messing around on his laptop, after all. He flung it open and smiled at him in that bright, American smile that the other had grown to love so much. "Hey dude! Come on in!" he chimed happily. Truth be told, he was really glad to have Kiku here. He'd heard this game was super scary, and he didn't really want to play it all alone.

Kiku gladly accepted the invitation inside and shrugged off his coat, hanging it up by the door before smiling up at the American. "What are we playing, Alfred-san?" he asked. He was always up to play a new horror video game.

"It's been raved about on the internet," he grinned as he made his way into the living room, Kiku following behind. "It's called Slender. Ever heard of it?" he asked.

"No, I don't think I have," he said with a shake of his head.

"Dude…you don't know who Slenderman is?" he asked, his mouth agape. "No way! He's this monster that was created on the internet. People went nuts over him! Basically, he's this monster who is super tall, wears a suit, and doesn't have a face. He lives in the woods and targets children, and when they aren't looking at night, he takes them into the woods, kills them, and then hangs their organs in the treetops. Super freaky, right?"

Kiku nodded, though, to be honest, it didn't really seem like that frightening a concept to him. "Very scary. So the video game we're about to play is based off him?" he asked, sitting down on the couch next to Alfred and looking over at the laptop screen. Sure enough, it proclaimed the words "Slender: The Eight Pages" across the screen in scratchy lettering.

"Yeah! You want to go first, or should I?" Alfred asked him. Honestly, he didn't quite want to go first. He'd heard the game was _super_ scary, and had seen a bunch of his favorite people on YouTube freak out when they played it.

"Why don't we play together? I'll control the flashlight and you'll control the walking?" he asked.

Alfred took a shaky breath, but nodded and clicked "play". "Sure dude," he said, settling the laptop on his lap. The screen was dark with only a circle of light guiding them. Apparently, they were lost in a forest with only their flashlight to guide them, and they were looking for eight pages scattered throughout the woods. "Okay, that shouldn't be that hard…" he muttered, working the controls and beginning to walk forward.

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><p>"Shit! What's that noise?!" Alfred asked nervously. The two of them had been playing for about an hour now, and they currently had about three pages in their possession. Better yet? No Slenderman to be seen. However, in the background of the game, a quiet thundering noise could be heard; almost like the person's own beating heart, broadcast for the entire forest to hear.<p>

"It's designed to make you nervous, Alfred-san. Don't worry…" Kiku mumbled, though he had to admit, it had been having an effect on him too. He'd begun to feel nervous as the two of them progressed further in the game. He knew that something was bound to happen soon…

The two of them rounded a corner then only to be met with…"Holy crap dude! It's Slenderman! Run away!" Alfred yelled, the flashlight going out on screen as Kiku hurried to get them out of that area. He didn't _quite_ go fast enough, however, because the screen suddenly erupted into static, and then went back to Alfred's home-screen. Alfred and Kiku had both shrieked at the sudden sound and sight, and were both shaking by the time it went away.

"K-kiku…did you see that?" Alfred breathed after about five minutes.

"See what?" Kiku asked softly, looking up at him.

"T-there w-was a face. In the static. It was Slenderman…" he whimpered. He shut his laptop and looked away. "Let's agree to _**never**_play that again…"

"Agreed," Kiku nodded.


	28. Est-ce que tu m'aimes? (FrUK)

_**Hey guys! I hope you liked the last chapter. I've been wanting to write something with America playing Slender for a while, but I never could quite figure out what I wanted to do with it. And now I did! Huzzah! Anyways, here's the next chapter! This is the final one that **__**Everyone is a friend**__** requested, and so here's me, killing off her final request! I hope you like it, sweetheart, along with everyone else! Make sure to review! I love reading them, and they keep me writing all this fluffy shit. **__** Love ya! ~Cheylock**_

Est-ce que tu m'aimes?: an England x France drabble

Francis had no idea how he had managed to fall for him; none whatsoever. How could he have let this happen? He had fallen for _Arthur Kirkland_, of all people. The black sheep of Europe! The man who had ordered that his dear Joan be burned. How…how did this happen to him? And more specifically…why?

He knew that contemplating the situation wouldn't make it go away, but god could he wish. So there he sat, at his desk in his office, writing a love letter for him. He had to confess to him how he felt before he exploded. He knew he'd probably get laughed at, maybe even sworn at…but he had to try. The next meeting was tomorrow morning: He'd slip it in between his paperwork when he had his back turned, and then no one would be the wiser. He wouldn't have to deal with the backlash until after the meeting, right? Well, at least that was how it would work in theory…

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><p>The meeting the next day came far too quickly in Francis' opinion. He'd been up until the wee hours of the morning writing that letter for Arthur, to make sure he got it absolutely perfect, and was insanely tired at the moment. However, he walked into the conference room, slumped down into his chair, and listened to Alfred ramble on and on about…well…<em>something<em>. He was too tired to focus too hard on specific details. His eyes kept flicking over to Arthur as Alfred spoke, and he had to keep reminding himself to not be so obvious about his affections. He couldn't know until he read the note.

Ah! There was his opening! Arthur had turned away to speak to Alfred and suggest an alternative, leaving all the paperwork in front of him on the table completely unguarded! Francis reached into his pocket, quietly unfolded the piece of parchment he'd written it on, and slipped it in-between the papers. Success! Now all he had to do was wait…

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><p>Francis was on the edge of his seat for almost the entire meeting. Why hadn't Arthur seen the note yet?! It really wasn't that difficult to shuffle some papers around on a desk and to notice a piece of parchment sticking out!<p>

And that was when he noticed it. Arthur had begun to move his papers, clearly looking for a specific document when he stumbled upon the thicker piece hidden among them. He cocked his head to the side and pulled it out, curious as to what it was doing there. Had he accidentally mixed up some of his spell papers with his work ones? No…this wasn't his handwriting. It was…positively beautiful. The letter was written in silky, jet black ink and the letters curved in ways that he hadn't seen in ages. Perfectly written calligraphy. Whoever this was was clearly trying to impress him. He began to read through it.

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><p>Très chère Angleterre [1],<p>

I know we have our differences. Please don't think for a second that I have forgotten that; especially after you read what else I have written in this letter. We've both done things we regret in regards to the other. We've hurt each other. We've caused each other so much pain in the past; but I don't want to do that anymore. You'll see why I'm saying this in a few moments.

Arthur…I am in love with you. I don't know how, or why, and I won't pretend like I do. The heart works in mysterious ways: sometimes for the better, and on rare occasions, for the worse. That doesn't change the fact that I have fallen for you very hard; harder than I have ever fallen for anyone before, even harder than I fell for Joan.

* * *

><p>Arthur's eyes went wide as he read that. He looked next to him at the Frenchman sitting there like he hadn't slept in weeks. God…was this for real? His eyes went back to the note and he continued to read.<p>

* * *

><p>I suppose you're probably wondering at this point whether this is some sort of sick joke. And why wouldn't you? I haven't done anything in the past to prove otherwise. For all you know, I could be setting you up. But I swear to you, I'm not, Angleterre. And you know that, while I may be many things (a flirt, a man whore, etc.)…I'm not a liar. I never have been, and I don't intend to start now. So…if you never believe a word I say for the rest of my life, please believe this one. I love you with every breath I take, with every beat of my heart, and with every thought that runs through my mind. Now, the only question I have left for you is this…<p>

Est-ce que tu m'aimes? [2]

Toi pour toujours [3],

Francis Bonnefoy

* * *

><p>Arthur felt tears stinging in his eyes when he finished the letter. Francis loved him? How could that be possible? The two of them had been bitter rivals for centuries…and yet he had fallen for the other upon first sight. He put the piece of parchment down on the table, turned to the Frenchman, and just shook his head a little out of shock. "You bloody git…of course I love you too…" he muttered before leaning in and kissing him deeply, not even caring that all the other countries were staring at them.<p>

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><p><em><strong>[1] <strong>__**Très chère Angleterre = Dearest England**_

_**[2] Est-ce que tu m'aimes? = Do you love me? **_

_**[3] Toi pour toujours = Yours forever**_


	29. The Cold Never Bothered Me (LitBel)

_**Hey guys! Sorry for leaving you without a drabble for a few days. I was in Cleveland with my family, and you know what they say! Family comes first! Anyways, I didn't **__**completely**__** abandon you guys, lol. I brought my notebook and wrote this one in the car on the way. I hope you guys like it. Make sure to review! :) **__**~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>The Cold Never Bothered Me: a Lithuania x Belarus drabble<span>

"That's it, Ivan!" Toris said angrily, grabbing his coat off the hook by the door and pulling it on. The Russian had picked on him too many times now, and Toris was fed up with it. He had made a spur of the moment decision to get as far away as he could. If it took leaving the house and walking outside into one of Russia's famous blizzards, so be it.

"What did I do, comrade? " Ivan asked, following him to the door. "All I did was give you some constructive feedback on your cooking."

"By shoving my face in it?!" he snapped, tying his scarf around his neck and pulling gloves on to keep his fingers from freezing. "You know, I've put up with a lot of horrible things from you over the years, but now I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you bullying me, and I'm not going to tolerate it anymore!" This was the first time the Lithuanian had raised his voice in front of Ivan and the Russian had to admit, it was rather impressive. While he was contemplating this, however, Toris uttered the words that he'd never dared to before.

"I quit!"

Ivan felt like his world was shattering. "W-what? You can't. You work for me. You're my Toris…" he said softly, pain obvious in his voice. Somewhere along the long, winding road that had led them to this point, Ivan had fallen for him. He couldn't leave! He just…couldn't. "Please don't leave…please…"

Toris huffed. "I'm not yours anymore, Ivan. Goodbye," he stated icily, opening the door. Thankfully, the blizzard had stopped now, and it left only a thick blanket of snow in its wake. The individual crystals of ice sparkled under the moonlight, and the result was that it was almost glowing, casting the tall trees on the edge of Ivan's property into the darkness. All you could see was their faint black silhouettes. Toris stepped out into the strangely gorgeous winter landscape and shut the door securely behind himself. He'd done it. He'd left…

* * *

><p>Toris had been walking for a while now. He'd managed to get to the tree-line, and was currently walking under them to get some shelter from the wind. The trees were ancient; some of them had probably been there before Ivan, even. The branches had never been cut so, after so many years, they drooped and almost reached the snow crunching beneath his boots.<p>

He rounded the corner of the property, fully intending to keep walking until god only knows when, but the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

By the trunk of a large tree, a black metal bench had been placed. After the blizzard, the bench arms were wearing small caps made of snow, and frost crept up the sides like ivy. But that wasn't what had stopped him. The seat of the bench had been brushed off, and on the far side, a beautiful girl sat, crying into her hands like her heart had just been shattered. Toris only had to look at her a moment before the navy bow in her hair gave her away. He walked up behind her.

"Natalia?" he asked softly, causing the other to whip around with wide eyes. She had a knife in her hand, and she held it to his throat instinctually. Toris shrieked from surprise. "Natalia! It's me!" he assured gently, though his voice was shaking from the threat of being held at knife point. Since both of them were mistreated by Ivan (her emotionally, and himself physically _and_ emotionally), they had formed a sort of love-hate relationship, though more emphasis was placed on the love portion of that now. At least on Toris' end, anyways.

"Toris?" she asked in equal surprise. She wiped her tears away from her eyes and lowered her knife down to her side. "What are you doing out here? Did Ivan send you?" she asked suspiciously. Ivan had been known to do sneakier things, after all. She wouldn't be surprised if he had done that.

"No, nothing like that," he chuckled nervously. He didn't know how she would react when she found out that he had quit on her _dear big brother_. But that was when the words she had said began to truly sink in. "Wait, why would he send me?" he asked gently, sitting down beside her on the bench. "Did something happen between you two?"

She chuckled bitterly and looked down at where her hands were now sitting folded in her lap. "I wish," she sighed. "But if you mean "did we have a fight"? Yeah, we did. He…doesn't want to marry me. Not ever. He said…he said he doesn't love me like that…and he never will…" She started to cry again as she spoke, mascara leaving small black trails down her cheeks as she did.

Toris' expression softened at that and he moved close to her. Hesitantly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Natalia…he's your brother," he murmured. "Siblings shouldn't have those feelings for each other. I think…the best thing you could do for yourself at this point is let some love into your heart that _isn't _from Ivan. Although, honestly? He doesn't know what he's missing. I think you're utterly amazing."

She looked up at him through her tears and sniffed a little. "You really think that?" she asked softly.

Toris nodded a little and brushed a stray tear off her cheek with his thumb. "I really do," he murmured. "You're feisty, and beautiful, and so, _so_ smart. You play violin like a dream, and you have a mean round house kick. I think any man would be lucky to call you theirs."

She smiled shyly up at him, and the faintest of blushes came onto her cheeks. "Even you?" she whispered, her heart going a mile a minute. He had always taken such good care of her…why not try something new? She might be surprised, after all. Maybe she could fall for him as hard as she fell for Ivan…

He smiled a little back at her and leaned forward, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. "Especially me, Natalia…" he murmured. "I would be positively honored."

Natalia's smile grew a little bit at the gentle kiss to her forehead. "Good. Because I'm willing to try something knew if you are…" she said softly. Before even giving him a chance to respond, she leaned up and kissed his lips. It wasn't heated, or even passionate. It was simply a kiss that bound two souls, and she thought that that was beautiful.


	30. Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf (PruCan

_**Hey guys! Okay, a couple of things before I begin here: #1) I'm really sorry, but drabbles are probably going to have some time between them now. I've started my senior year, and I'm taking a fairly heavy course-load, so I really need to focus on that. I'll get these up when I can (I sometimes write them in a notebook during study hall and type them up later on when I've got the time), but no guarantees as to how few and far between these will be. #2) I'm sorry for leaving all of you without a drabble for so long without any sort of explanation. Now that you know, things will be a bit easier for everyone involved. That being said, I got inspired recently, and I wrote this thing! Hope you guys like it! Make sure to review, as I do read every single one of them, take the time to respond, and they really do brighten my day when I do. Thanks for sticking with me. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf: a Prussia x Canada drabble<span>

"…and when he opened the door, there he was!" Alfred stated theatrically. Currently, Matthew, Arthur, and Francis were all over at his house for dinner. After the four of them had finished eating, they could hear the rain that had been pattering down all day begin to shift from a drizzle to a torrential downpour. They thought nothing of it, however, as all of them were inside the house and not, in fact, outside. That was, until the power went out, leaving the house in pure darkness. After a lot of stumbling around (and thankfully not injuries), Alfred had managed to find a flashlight. So that brings us to what was happening currently.

The four of them were sitting in a circle on Alfred's living room floor, and Alfred was telling ghost stories. At the moment, he was telling a story about a demon that liked to possess his victims, leaving the unfortunate host with blood red eyes and leading them to say things they normally wouldn't in order to lull the people around into a false sense of security. Once they were in that mindset, the demon ditched the body, leaving its host dead, and killed the others in order to find a new body to inhabit.

While Arthur and Francis merely scoffed at the story, Matthew was hanging on every word Alfred said. By this point in the story, the demon had already killed three people, and was now in the possession of a new host. The demon had showed up on its host's boyfriend's doorstep. "Oh god, don't kill him too…" Matthew thought to himself.

""Hey baby," the boyfriend said gently," Alfred continued. "The demon didn't respond. Instead, it moved forward and captured the other in a passionate kiss. The boyfriend simply let his eyes shut, gladly kissing his lover in return. He had no idea the danger he had condemned himself to by doing so…"

"Oooo, condemned. A big boy vocabulary word," Arthur muttered.

Alfred simply flipped him off and continued. Because of the mention of kissing, he'd managed to catch Francis' attention, who was now listening to the story intently. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"The demon pinned James to the wall and began to kiss his neck," Alfred continued, tracing along his own neck to emphasize his point. Arthur coughed awkwardly and looked away, a faint blush on his cheeks that earned him a playful wink from Alfred and a scolding slap on the arm from Francis. "Unknown to him, the demon was beginning to transition into the physical world. He slipped out of Cecil's body, letting it crumple to the floor behind himself. He smirked at the shocked and heartbroken look on James' face. "Surprise," he growled before sinking his razor sharp teeth into James' neck. He ripped out his jugular, sending blood splattering across the cream colored walls behind him. He sucked the poor man dry, then released him, allowing James' body to collapse onto the ground below him in a crumpled heap. The demon wiped his mouth to clear the blood away from his lips, and grinned, his lust for gore and blood sated for the moment. But he's still out there. Waiting. Watching. Looking for his next kill." Alfred beamed, apparently very satisfied with his own story telling ability; As he should be, because Matthew was currently curled up on the couch, shaking from fear along with Francis. Arthur sighed and shook his head.

"You blokes are scared of _that_?!" he laughed.

"You can't blame us for zat, Angelettere!" Francis pouted. "It was scary!"

"Y-yeah, Arthur," Matthew piped in quietly, still shaking. That story had scared the hell out of him…

"What babies!" Alfred laughed, his so-called "hero laugh" rearing its ugly head through the chuckles. "I can't believe you two are scared of a little-" He was cut off when screams emitted from his entire family, the loudest and highest pitched of which came directly from his own throat. There had been a knock at the door (as there had been in the story), which sparked a panic response from everyone. "D-demon…" he finished weakly, his voice shaking.

"W-well g-go get i-it, h-hero…" Arthur laughed shakily, wringing his hands.

"WHAT?! WHY DO I HAVE TO?!" Alfred asked, obviously scared out of his mind at this point.

"Because n-none of us want to," Francis stammered nervously. "A-and _you_ were t-the one who told the story in the first place!"

"W-well y-yeah! B-but I didn't expect it to be r-real!" Alfred protested.

Matthew shakily got to his feet. "I-I'll go be the hero, if you w-want, Alfred…" he said softly, which caused Alfred to shake his head violently.

"N-no…I'll go…" Alfred said, obviously terrified, but he wasn't about to give up an opportunity to be the hero…so he got up, kissed Arthur, Francis, and Matthew on the cheeks, and made his way over to the door, behind which someone (or some_thing_) was waiting for him.

His hand hovered over the doorknob for about a minute before he finally opened it. On the other side…was Gilbert. A Gilbert that positively _reeked _of alcohol. But that wasn't what Alfred noticed first. What he noticed first was his bright scarlet eyes. Alfred screamed bloody murder, slammed the door shut (without locking it), and sprinted back into the living room.

"What happened? Are you alright, love?" Arthur asked immediately, jumping up and rushing over to him, holding his face in his hands. "Did it get you?"

"N-n-no…" he stammered, rapidly pointing behind himself. He was as pale as a sheet. "I-i-it's here! T-the d-d-demon!" With that, Alfred fainted.

Arthur caught him and set him down on the couch before turning to the others as they heard the door open. "If we die tonight…I love you both so much…" Arthur murmured, pulling Francis close and kissing him gently.

Francis gladly kissed him back for just a few moments before pulling away when he heard footsteps begin to close in, coming closer and closer to the living room they were packed into with every shuffling step. "We need to get out of here!" Francis whispered frantically.

Arthur and Matthew both nodded in agreement and had turned to run, when suddenly Matthew felt a hand clap against his shoulder. "P-please don't kill me!" Matthew squeaked, silently watching his life flash before his eyes as the hand didn't lift.

"Birdie?" Gilbert hiccupped, causing all of them to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Bloody git! It was only Gilbert!" Arthur groaned, slapping the unconscious Alfred on the shoulder out of annoyance.

"What is Arthur doing here?" Gilbert asked, his accent thicker now due to his drinking. He was also slurring a little, but Matthew didn't care. _Gilbert_, of all people, was here with him during a power outage! If there was ever a time to make a move, it was now!

"Yeah, it's me Gil," Matthew giggled. "Arthur and Francis are here. We were having a family night, but the power went out," he explained. "Then Alfred thought it would be an utterly _brilliant_ idea to tell a story about a red eyed demon, and then you knocked," he chuckled sheepishly. It sounded so stupid said out loud…

"Und he thought I vas a demon?" he laughed, his trademark "keseseses" laugh making an appearance as he did so. "That's the funniest thing I've heard this veek!"

"Yeah," he chuckled shyly before deciding to make his move. He steeled himself. God, what he was about to do…it was so uncharacteristic of him, but _god_ did he want to. And besides, he hadn't grown up with Francis of all people for nothing! He reached his hand forward in the darkness and grabbed the albino's.

Gilbert blushed, suddenly thankful for the dark shielding his face from view. "Vhat are you doing?" he whispered.

"Follow me, mon cher…" he leaned forward and purred (hopefully) in his ear, though he couldn't be positive in the dark. "I'm going to show you how it feels to be with a French Canadian…"

Gilbert gulped, and nodded. "J-ja, okay…" he breathed. Was he really getting this lucky? Was Matthew _actually_ making a move? "Lead the vay…"

Matthew beamed. "Fantastic," he purred before leading him out of the living room and down the hall towards his bedroom, thankfully out of hearing distance from his parents in the other room. He stayed in this room when he spent the night at Alfred's (which was fairly often due to conferences and such being scheduled in America), and it would suit their purposes perfectly now. Before he opened the door, however, he gripped the other's hair and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Gilbert let out a noise of surprise. He couldn't believe it! Matthew was kissing him! God, he'd waited so long…He wrapped his arms around his neck, gladly letting Matt take the lead as he tangled his fingers in the Canadian's hair and kissed him fiercely in return.

* * *

><p>What Gilbert <em>hadn't<em> been expecting was for Matthew to be such a…_fierce_ and passionate lover. When the two of them had gotten started, Matthew had almost immediately cuffed him to the headboard. Well, he supposed that was what happened when you grew up with Arthur and Francis for parents. He got Arthur's power and dominance, and he got Francis'…*ahem* _skill_.

* * *

><p>When they finished, Matthew un-cuffed him and cuddled up to the Prussian, resting his head on the other's chest and pressing a sweet kiss there. "Sorry for being so rough, Gil…" he mumbled, worried he'd hurt him. "Are you okay?"<p>

Gilbert smiled dopily at him and tilted face up so he could look into his eyes. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before pulling away and whispering a single word: "Awesome."


	31. My Dearest Love (Reader x France)

_**Hey guys! I know I've been gone for a long time, and I'm really sorry. But I have three new chapters to upload for all of you! They're all reader inserts, so I hope you like them! For any blank spaces, just insert your own name. Make sure to review! They really do keep my writing, as stupid as it sounds. Love you guys! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>My Dearest Love: a France x Reader drabble<span>

The letter sitting in her grip was deceptively simple. Encased in a pretty white envelope, the only word spread across the paper was her name, written in gorgeous calligraphy: _. The envelope had been slipped into her bag while she had chatted with some friends over milkshakes at the mall, and she'd only found it when she'd returned to the comfort of her own home when she'd reached for her cell phone.

She turned the envelope over in her hands once, then twice, debating on whether or not to open it. Someone had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to at least write her name that way on the outside of the envelope, so she might as well humor them…right? She turned it over again and gently slipped her fingers under the flap before tugging upwards quickly. The envelope flap flipped open, revealing a beautiful piece of pink parchment nestled within the folds. With curious fingers moving on their own accord, _ pulled the piece of parchment paper out and unfolded it. In doing so, a faint scent of roses washed over her. The entire letter was written in the same stunning lettering as before, she noted, before beginning to read.

* * *

><p>My Dearest Love,<p>

If you are reading this letter, then I have finally gathered up enough courage to tell you how I feel about you. I have hidden it very well for a rather long time, but I have come to realize that it is no use hiding your feelings in the shadows where they cannot see the light of day. And so, on this day, I have decided that they shall live there no longer. _…I have loved you from the moment we met. You are the light of my life. You are the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. And no matter what time I think of you, it always makes me smile. You are beautiful and lovely in every single possible way, and I wish that I could bring myself to say this to you in person so that I could see the spark of life in your eyes. But, alas, I am still too faint of heart, for you have stolen mine. So…if you'll have me, I would love to try and make you as happy a person as you have made me. If you wish to, my telephone number is written at the bottom of this letter.

All My Love and Affection,

Francis Bonnefoy

* * *

><p>It took her a few moments to process what she had just read. Of course she loved Francis! She had since she'd met him, but the fact that he returned her affections was certainly news to her. Whenever she was around him, he always acted flirty towards…well, everyone <em>except<em> her. She glanced down at the bottom of the letter and, sure enough, his phone number was written just as he said it would be. She grabbed her phone and dialed, hesitating a moment before hitting "send". This was it. She took a deep breath, and pressed the button.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang until _ was sure that he wasn't going to pick up. She was about to hang up when the ringing stopped and a happy sounding "Bonjour!" came over the line. "Who is this?"

"Francis! Hi!" she said chipperly, trying to keep her voice steady against the nerves that she felt as her heart hammered away in her chest. "It's _…"

_ could hear shuffling on the other end of the line as Francis sat up from where he'd been lying down on his bed. "_! I assume that means you read my letter?" he asked, the slightest bit of shyness creeping into his words as he spoke.

"I did, yeah," she said, a shy smile on her own features as she talked to him. "It was absolutely beautiful…"

"Oh, well. I'm glad you liked it. I was worried that it might scare you away," he chuckled nervously.

"Scare me away? Francis…how could I leave when I love you as much as I love you?" she whispered.

"You…you love me?" he breathed, his heart going into overdrive on the other end.

"Well, of course I do!" _ chuckled. "Otherwise I wouldn't have called you."

He cleared his throat, a beaming smile on his face that she, unfortunately, couldn't see. "Wow…alright then," he smiled. "In that case, would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I'll cook?"

_ giggled happily and nodded. "I'd love to. I'll see you at say…seven?" she suggested.

"Seven," he agreed. "See you then."

"See you!" she grinned, going to hang up the phone, but a voice on the other end stopped her.

"Wait…_?"

"Yes, Francis?"

There was a slight hesitation before he finally said the words aloud. "I love you…"

_ smiled happily and murmured a gentle "I love you too."


	32. Tug of War (Reader x Romano)

_**Here's the second reader insert, and the third is on its way! Review please! Also, this collection of drabbles has broken 20,000 views! Thank you so much, guys. You have no idea how much that means to me. My heart sorta swelled up when I saw that, and I let out a noise that I'm pretty sure wasn't actually human. Regardless, thank you guys so much! :D ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Tug of War: a Reader x Romano drabble<span>

_ never thought that she would wind up cuddled with a temperamental Italian on the couch of his living room watching a movie, but lo and behold, that was exactly the situation she was currently in. She had her head curled up against Lovino's chest and his arms were around her slender waist as their eyes were focused on the screen in front of them that was playing the theme song to Ghostbusters.

How had they gotten there? Well, _ had gone to hang out with Antonio _and_ Lovino, but Antonio had left when he'd gotten a panicked call from Francis and Gilbert needing his help. They hadn't exactly specified what had happened, but _ had gotten out of the garbled voices she'd heard out of the receiver was that it had something to do with poison ivy, hot glue, and glitter. What the hell had they even been doing? Never mind, there was no point in dwelling on that at the moment. Regardless of what had actually happened, Antonio slipped out, leaving _ and Lovino alone together. After various snarky comments had been exchanged between the two of them, they had finally just settled on watching a movie. _ had popped it in and sat down beside him but, somehow within the course of the opening credits, Lovino had maneuvered it so that she was cuddled up to him. It's not something that he'd exactly boast about, but Lovino was a cuddler despite his somewhat abrasive nature.

So, those were the events leading up to the current situation. _ glanced up at his face from her position against his chest, letting herself memorize his features while she had the opportunity to. Her eyes flicked over his hazel eyes, his nose…his lips. She cleared that thought from her mind quickly. _Don't even go there, _…_ she thought to herself. Her eyes traveled up to his hairline when his curl caught her eye. It was so much like his brother's, with the exception that it was on the other side of his head. However, they were both oddly…almost protective over them. Weird. She wondered why…

Her hand moved up slightly and she let her index finger trail gently across the odd piece of hair, only to have an undignified squeak come from beside her seconds later. She glanced over at Lovino, and his face was as red as one of Antonio's tomatoes. "Why the _hell_ would you do that?" he hissed through his teeth.

_ cocked an eyebrow at him curiously. "I was just interested in your curl…"

"Well, don't be!" he said defensively.

"Why not?" she asked. "It's just hair, isn't it?"

Lovino sighed and ran his hand across his face. Thankfully his blush was starting to recede now and his skin was going back to its normal color. "Si, its just hair. I don't know why it does what it does, but it does, alright? So leave it be."

"That made absolutely no sense," she chuckled. "What does it even do?"

Ah, there was the blush again. It flared up, less extremely this time, but it was there nonetheless. "N-nothing!" he stammered shyly.

"Well…clearly it does _something_," she smirked, sitting up and looking at him in the eyes. "Care to tell me, or do I have to figure it out myself?"

He huffed and crossed his arms in annoyance, but after a few moments of contemplation, he begrudgingly nodded. "…fine. You know how Alfred has that stupid fucking cowlick of his? And Matthew, Feliciano and I have these?" he asked, gesturing to the curl.

_ nodded. "Yeah, you'd sorta have to be blind to not notice," she chuckled.

"Right…well…those stupid little bits of hair…for _some _reason…are insanely sensitive," he mumbled.

_ grinned. "Really? That's actually kinda cool," she snickered. Her eyes flickered over to his curl once more and, before he could stop her, she leaned over and pulled on it. She was just curious as to how it would affect him! And, well…she sorta had a bit of a crush on him, and she was kind of hoping that this would count as a move.

Upon the yank of his curl, it was like a switch had flipped inside Lovino. A devilish smile crossed his lips, and a spark of mischief lit in his eyes. He slipped them so that she was the one under him now and kissed her deeply. He only pulled away when he needed desperately to breathe, and he smirked. "Oh, bella. You really shouldn't have done that…" he chuckled breathily before leaning in and kissing her again. And this time, she gladly reciprocated.


	33. Hips Don't Lie (Reader x Spain)

**_Hey guys! Okay, so this is the last Reader x Country drabble I'm gonna put up for a while. However, if you guys like them, request them! I'd always be willing to write more! Hope you guys like it! Make sure to review! ~Cheylock_**

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><p><span>Hips Don't Lie: a Reader x Spain drabble<span>

Holy…wow. _ couldn't even form a coherent thought when she first walked into the ballroom. She'd been invited to the World Conference Ball by Matthew, and she'd agreed, as Matthew was one of her best friends, and she didn't want him to have to go alone. But she hadn't been expecting things to be this…lavish. The ball was being held at Roderich's, so she supposed she shouldn't exactly be surprised, but she couldn't help it! She'd never actually been invited to one of the nation's big events before (with the exception of Alfred's parties, but those didn't really count), so she'd had no idea what to actually expect. But this…this was insane.

The ballroom was decorated to the absolute nines. Roderich must have spared no expense when ordering things to be made and delivered to him. Gorgeous crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating the dance floor with flickering candlelight as opposed to the traditional light bulbs. The theme for the ball this year was Winter Masquerade, so in between the chandeliers, crystal snowflakes hung from delicate little strings that were almost invisible in the light. Fake snow encircled the dance floor, and where snow_ wasn't_, a faint layer of glitter covered the floor, causing everything near to the floor to have an almost glowing quality. It was absolutely beautiful.

_ was snapped out of her thoughts when Matthew came up beside her, brushing her skirt lightly as he walked. She'd worn a pale yellow dress that came to about her knees and would flare out when she spun. It had a sweetheart neckline and a thin halter strap that looped around the back of her neck to hold it up. Her mask was made of white lace, and it covered the upper portion of her face, with the exception of her stunning eyes. White heels covered her feet with only her toes exposed, revealing the pedicure she'd gotten to match her dress. Matthew, on the other hand, had worn a simple black suit and a pale yellow tie. Since he'd come with _, he had to match her _somehow_. He had a black mask as opposed to _'s white one, and when the two of them stood next to each other, the contrast was very interesting.

"Wow! This place is amazing!" she grinned, looking around her once more before turning to face Matthew. "Thanks for bringing me, Matt!"

"Oh, it's no problem. I'm glad you said yes," he smiled gently at her. "I have to go say hello to everyone, but feel free to go dance and stuff. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

"Alright, no problem," she smiled, waving a little at him as he left her alone by the punch bowl. She grabbed a Dixie cup filled with punch and downed it quickly before heading out to the dance floor. She spotted someone across the floor she recognized as Alfred, and went to dance with him.

* * *

><p>Over the course of an hour, _ had danced swing with Alfred, ballroom with Arthur, and some odd combination of the two with Feliciano, but she'd seen no sign of the guy she'd <em>really<em> been hoping to dance with that night: Antonio. She'd had a crush on him for as long as she could think of. As long as she'd known him, anyways, and Matthew was the only one who knew about it other than her human friends. Of course they all knew!

When a new song came on, she and Feliciano started up again, dancing their shoes off and just generally having a good time. That was the purpose of the ball, after all. It was a time when politics didn't matter for the nations and their guests, and they could all just cut loose and just have fun for an evening. However, about half way through the song, _ felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned to face whoever had done it, only to lock eyes with gorgeous green ones.

"Can I cut in?" a Spanish accent lilted as it passed by the stranger's lips, causing _ to grin. Antonio. She should have known.

"Of course. I'll dance with you later, bella!" Feliciano grinned before skipping off to go find Ludwig and drag the grouch out onto the dance floor with the rest of the nations.

_ blushed a bit and smiled at him. "Hey," she greeted, only to have him wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to him, causing her to squeak with surprise.

"Hola," he chuckled at her reaction. "Enjoying the ball?"

"Yeah, definitely," she smiled happily. "Everything is so gorgeous. Roderich did a great job decorating."

"You think Roderich did all this? Oh, chica, no. Elizabeta did all the decorating. Roderich just likes to take credit for it," he snickered, glancing over to where the pair were currently dancing together.

"Regardless, everything looks so nice," she chuckled, looking up into those beautiful eyes of his. She felt her heartbeat quicken, but she didn't let it show in her features. She was the picture of confidence.

"Not as nice as you," he said, flashing a charming smile at her.

Oh sweet lord. He was trying to kill her. This was evil. Pure, unadulterated evil. Her blush darkened at that and she smiled at him. "Oh, thanks…" she giggled shyly.

"Anytime, _," he murmured, tilting her chin up so that she'd look at him. "I think you're the most amazing woman I've ever met…"

"Antonio…you don't have to say that…" she whispered, looking up into his eyes as he'd prompted her to do.

"I'm not just saying it…" he whispered in return before deciding to take a risk and slowly leaning into her, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.


	34. No Homo (Prussia x America)

_**Hey guys! So, this drabble is actually based off of something that happened when I took my German exchange student out for wings when she came to America. Except, you know…without the kissing that will inevitably ensue, lol. Hope you guys like it, and please review! Also, I'm really really sorry for not updating recently. Finals are right around the corner, so I won't be updating again probably until the end of June or so. Thanks so much for sticking with me with my sporadic updates and my subpar writing skills, lol. I really do love you guys. Thanks again. ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>No Homo: a Prussia x America drabble<span>

"So, what are we doing for dinner, Alfred? I'm starving! That plane ride took a lot out of the awesome me," Gilbert sighed as he grabbed his luggage off of the conveyor belt. He had just flown into New York for a visit, but the flight from Germany was roughly nine hours, and that wasn't counting layovers and other flights as well. Overall, he was dead tired, and insanely hungry, as the plane food had _sucked_, and he had refused to eat more than the two bites he'd taken to determine that it _did_, in fact, suck.

Alfred had come to pick Gilbert up from the airport, and was currently standing by his side as he plucked the suitcase off of the carousel. He thought for a moment when Gilbert asked him about dinner, and then his face lit up. "Dude, I know! Have you ever tried chicken wings?" he asked excitedly as a small yellow bird fluttered out from where he had been nestled in Gilbert's hair and settled on the albino's shoulder.

"Chicken wings? What are those?" he asked, a bit confused. He'd never heard of anything with that name before, with the exception of Gilbird's wings when he'd been taken to the vet…

"Oh, dude. You can't come to New York and _not_ have chicken wings! Just trust me!" he beamed, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the rotating door to the parking lot. He helped him get his luggage into the trunk, and then plopped behind the wheel. He started the car, and revved the engine (as he almost always did. It was fun, okay?!) before pulling out of the parking lot.

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><p>Sooner rather than later, the two of them were pulling into the parking lot of a small brick building. It had a bright red roof, and in italicized lettering it boasted the name <em>Duff's<em> on the side of it. Alfred killed the ignition and got out of the car. Gilbert followed his example and got out as well.

"Duff's?" Gilbert asked. He'd never heard of this place in all the times he'd been to the state of New York. Granted, places went in and out of business fairly regularly, but he was sure he would have heard of this place before if it was any good.

"Yeah! God, have you really never been here before?" he asked, obviously dumbstruck that he'd never been to the little building.

"Nein, I definitely haven't," he said with a shake of his head.

"Oh, then my friend…you're in for a treat," he chuckled, grabbing his hand again and leading him inside. On the inside, the place was just as cozy looking as the outside. Tables and chairs scattered the wooden, black painted floor, and booths lined the windows. A small fire flickered in the brick fireplace over by the bar, and a hostess stand stood by the door where the woman in question was bent over a small diagram and directing a waitress which table to serve.

She greeted them chipperly when they walked over. "Hi, welcome to Duff's! How many?" she asked with a smile, though it was fairly obvious that her eyes were scoping over Alfred's figure. The nametag attached to her black, red collared polo read "Jenny". For some reason, this bothered Gilbert, and his hand tightened almost imperceptibly in Alfred's.

"Just the two of us," Alfred smiled in return.

The hostess grabbed them both menus and led them to a booth over by the fireplace. "Your waitress will be right with you, okay?" she smiled. As she turned to go, Gilbert could swear he saw her wink at Alfred.

Alfred saw it too, and chuckled softly. "Can you believe she was flirting with me?" he laughed. "That hasn't happened in ages. I was beginning to think I'd lost my touch."

Gilbert laughed as well, though the tone of it was a little tight. Why had that bothered him that much?! That was totally un-awesome! "Ja…wouldn't want that," he commented.

Just then their waitress came over, and the two of them ordered their drinks quickly before looking back at the menu. "So…how hot do you want it?" Alfred asked, looking up at Gilbert from over the top of his menu (as they had been seated across from each other).

Gilbert flushed lightly as his mind whirred off in a direction that wasn't exactly PG-13. That couldn't be what he meant, could it? God, what was happening to him? "Um…what?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck in a hope to relieve the heat that had suddenly gotten trapped under his shirt collar.

"The sauce, dude," Alfred clarified with a chuckle. "What did you think I meant?"

Gilbert mentally face-palmed. How could he have been _that_ stupid? "Oh, ja! That was what I thought you'd meant! I just wanted to be sure!" he laughed nervously. "Um…how hot do you usually get it?"

"I usually get the fireball sauce, but seeing how you've never tried these before, lets go mild," he snickered. "Sound good?"

"Ja, okay," he nodded.

Soon after that, the waitress came back over with their drinks. Alfred had gotten a Coke (big surprise there), and Gilbert had ordered a beer. Sure, it wasn't _German_ beer, but Canadian beer was almost as good.

"Ready to order?" she asked, which caused Alfred to nod and smile.

"Yeah, we're gonna do the order of twenty wings, mild, and two fries," he grinned.

The waitress scribbled their order down on her small pad, and nodded. "Anything else?"

"Nope! That's it, I think," Alfred smiled, looking over at Gilbert for confirmation.

"Ja, that's it. Danke," he said with a small smile of his own. At his confirmation, the waitress scurried off to give the order to the chef, leaving the two of them alone again.

Over the course of a half hour, Alfred and Gilbert chatted about various things: How had life in Germany treated Gilbert over the past six months? How had life been going in America while Gilbert had been away? How were each other's economies doing? Any spats with the other nations? The topics went on and on until, finally, their food came. The two of them thanked their waitress before turning to their respective plates.

Gilbert's face was the epitome of confusion. He picked up his fork and knife and selected one of the flats. He set it on his plate and raised an eyebrow before beginning to try and cut the meat out of the middle of the piece of chicken. In Germany, almost everything was eaten with a fork and knife, which explained why Gilbert was struggling so much and, currently, cursing under his breath.

Meanwhile, Alfred had picked up a wing with both hands and was currently in the process of tearing the meat off the bone with his teeth. The sauce was getting on his fingers, but that really didn't matter all that much to him. The crunchiness of the skin and the slight heat of the sauce in his mouth were positively delicious, and the meat inside was moist and juicy.

Gilbert glanced up at Alfred for a moment, a question on his lips before he noticed what Alfred was doing. What the hell? "Alfred…what are you doing?" he asked curiously.

Alfred swallowed his bite of chicken wing and chuckled softly. "Eating chicken wings, bro," he smiled. He then noticed the fork and knife in Gilbert's hand, and laughed. "Gil, you can't eat chicken wings with a fork and knife," he grinned. "You have to pick it up and tear pieces off with your teeth."

"Oh," Gilbert said, blinking stupidly for a moment before setting the utensils to the side and hesitantly picking one up. The sauce made his fingers kind of slick. It was an odd feeling. "Like this?" he asked before leaning forward and tearing off a small chunk of meat. He had to admit, this was a _way_ better delivery system than the knife and fork had been for this particular food. The sauce tingled his tongue lightly with its spiciness, a sensation he found rather pleasant combined with the crunch of the skin and the moisture of the meat.

Alfred chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, like that," he said in affirmation before turning back to his own food.

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><p>When the two of them finally finished up, they paid their bill (Gilbert had insisted on paying for half of it, even though Alfred had offered to pay the whole bill) and tipped their waitress well before heading into the now slightly darkened outside world. There were lights made to look like oil lamps hanging on the outside of the building, casting their shadows out across the parking lot as they walked beneath them. "So, Gil, what did you think of your first chicken wings?" Alfred asked happily as he shrugged on his bomber jacket and put his hands in his pockets.<p>

Gilbert smiled in return and glanced up at Alfred's face in the pale light from the faux lanterns hanging above them. "They were really good. Thanks for bringing me here," he chuckled.

"Anytime," he said with a soft little laugh. "Next time you're in New York I'll bring you again. It can be our little tradition."

"I'd like that," Gilbert hummed as the two of them paused on the curb of the sidewalk. A car had just pulled out and was moving past them, so they'd stopped to let it pass before actually stepping into the parking lot itself. Paused like this, the light from the lanterns glimmered in Gilbert's eyes, making them almost look like rubies surrounded by some precious white stone.

Alfred smiled the slightest bit when he noticed that. He'd always loved Gilbert's eyes. He thought they were absolutely beautiful, even if the albino didn't exactly think so. Regardless of how "awesome" he claimed to be, Gilbert actually had pretty low self-esteem. Only Alfred knew that; the rest of the nations all just assumed he was an egocentric asshole, but Alfred knew better.

As his eyes skimmed across his features, they stopped abruptly on a single spot near the corner of his mouth. "Hey, bro?" the American chuckled softly. "You have some sauce left on your face…"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Well, it was bound to happen with those damned things," he snickered.

Alfred took a step towards him so that they were closer together than they had been before. Their chests were nearly touching now, and he hoped that the racing of his heart wouldn't be felt by the other. "Here, I've got it," he smiled, bringing his hand up and, softly, running his thumb across his lower lip until he reached the spot.

Gilbert's breathing hitched at the gesture, but he stayed still. _Keep cool, Gilbert…_ he thought to himself. _Breathe. Deep in…deep out…good job. Keep going…_

Alfred hadn't heard his breathing hitch at all, which was probably for the best, as he would have pulled away for fear of making Gilbert uncomfortable. He leaned his head down so that he could look into the Prussian's eyes, and hummed. "Well…it doesn't look like it wants to come off…what should I do about that?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

Gilbert's brain was going into overdrive now. "I…don't know…" he breathed, looking up at the other.

Alfred's eyes flicked down to Gilbert's lips instinctively, and he blushed faintly, almost imperceptibly in the pale light of the parking lot. "Hey…Gil? Can I ask you something? No homo though…" he chuckled sheepishly.

The Prussian nodded, swallowing his nerves before smiling at him. "Of course. What is it?" he asked curiously, his German accent lilting through the air as he spoke.

"Can…can I kiss you?" he asked softly, taking his hand in his own.

"Oh…" Gilbert breathed out, moving closer to Alfred in response to hand holding as well as the voice swirling in the back of his mind telling him that now was finally his chance. "J-ja…I guess that would be fine…"

Alfred grinned at him and, in a split second, moved so that his lips gently rested against Gilbert's. The kiss was so light that it was almost imperceptible at first, a feather-light touch that sent both of their hearts racing at what must have been record speeds. But Gilbert stood up on his toes to meet him, and their lips finally met properly. The feeling was positively electrifying, and left both of them breathless when they finally pulled away.

Alfred was the first one to break the silence. "Hey…Gil?" he asked, a breathy tone in his voice, as he hadn't quite regained his breath fully yet.

"Ja?"

"I…might be a little homo…"

Gilbert chuckled and hugged him tightly. "I know, dummkopf…"


	35. Parchment (Iceland x Spain)

_**She returns! That's right everyone, I'm back, and expect some regular updates from me until the end of the summer! Yay! Alright, so this one is a request from That. Hetalian .Belleza for a Spain x Iceland drabble on the basis that it is their crack ship, and I can't just turn away the opportunity to write crack, so here ya go! Hope you enjoy it, sweetie. Anyways, the idea behind this drabble is **__**Spánverjavígin**__**also known as the Spanish Killings or the Slaying of the Spaniards, and it was the last documented massacre in Icelandic history. Enjoy, and make sure to review! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Parchment: an Iceland x Spain drabble<span>

Antonio placed the parchment paper that had just been delivered to him down on his desk. A caravan of whalers from Spain had wrecked on the rocky shores of Iceland because of gale force winds, and they had split into two parties. The first had gone into an empty merchant's house and had taken some fish because they were starving and desperately needed food, and in retaliation a few nights later, a group of Icelanders entered the hut where the Spaniards were staying and slaughtered all fourteen of them in their sleep. Their bodies were mutilated and sunken into the icy depths of the ocean. Three days after, a council met and agreed that, due to the nature of the Spaniard's crimes that all of them were to be outlawed. About a week later, the other group of whalers (all eighteen men) were murdered by being stabbed in the eyes, ears, noses, and genitals, and Antonio was only _now_ getting words that this had happened at all. He grabbed his coat and alerted his secretary that he was leaving. He had to go see Emil.

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><p>Emil's eyes cracked open when he heard the pounding on his hotel room's door. He was exhausted, and whoever was bothering him had better have had a damn good reason. He had been in Spain for the week, working out some things with Francis and Gilbert as well as Antonio, and had just settled in for the night only an hour prior. He hauled himself up and out from underneath the covers, groaning softly to himself as the incessant pounding on the door didn't cease. "I'm coming!" he called out, pulling on his robe and tying around his waist before cracking the door open. He peeked out, only to have the door flung open and a positively steaming mad Spaniard push past him into the room.<p>

"Explain this," Antonio hissed, shoving the parchment into Emil's hands. "Explain to me why my citizens were just massacred."

"What?" Emil gasped, as this was genuine news to him. His eyes moved over the page, taking in the words and feeling his heart sink. "This…this was not my doing, Antonio. I had no idea this was happening," he breathed out.

"You are their _country_, Emil," he barked, his usually cool and easy going mannerism all but vanished now. He was generally so kind, but when it came to his citizens…if they were harmed, there was usually hell to pay, and everyone knew it after his pirate days. His fingers fisted into Emil's collar and he held the smaller man off of the ground. "You hold the law of the land. You knew, somewhere in you, that this was going to happen, and you did nothing to stop it. Explain yourself, or so help me, I will do to you every last thing on the list of ways my citizens were mutilated. You have my word on that," he snarled, spittle flying from his lips and speckling across the other's terrified features.

"I knew nothing, Antonio, please believe me," he breathed out, not even bothering to try and wipe away the spit from his face. "They did this without my approval. Even if it was justified-"

"_JUSTIFIED_?!" Antonio yelled, shoving Emil away and moving his coat to the side to reveal the cutlass he still wore on his belt. Old habits die hard and all that. "How on _Earth_ is the massacre of innocent whalers _JUSTIFIED_?!"

Emil stumbled backwards and crashed into an empty bookcase before responding. "They broke into a merchant's house and took his rations," he said slowly, his voice soft so as to try and keep Antonio from flying off the handle and possibly drawing the weapon that was now a looming threat. "That is cause for retribution in my country…what they did was not illegal. I would have had no authority over it even if I wanted to."

Antonio took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was at a lower volume, but also a lower octave. It was a rumbling deepness that resonated through his chest, but not at all pleasant to be on the receiving end of. "Emil…I understand throwing them in jail for breaking and entering. Even a whipping…" he began, slowly advancing on the Icelander. "But not gouging out their eyes, cutting off their noses, and stabbing them in the genitals before tying stones to their feet and sinking their still living bodies into the ocean to drown to death while catching hypothermia." He had reached Emil by then, and he pinned him to the wall next to the bookcase, his hand around the other's throat and a threatening pressure pushing against his windpipe. "For no crime is anything like that _ever_ justified…" he whispered into the shell of his ear before pressing harder on his throat.

At this rate, if Emil didn't get him calm, he may very well squeeze the life out of him before drawing that cutlass of his. His brain whirred, attempting to find any sort of way out of the situation; anything that might save his life. He knew he couldn't actually die, as he was a country after all, but he knew that they could experience something very, very similar, and it was by far one of the most painful experiences anyone could ever go through. He would know. He had gone through it once in his Viking days, and he was not eager to go through that again any time soon. In fact, he would like to avoid it at all costs if possible, and so he did the only thing he could think of in that moment. He kneed the Spaniard in the crotch.

Antonio let out a harsh cry and his knees buckled, his forehead slamming against Emil's shoulder as he collapsed to the ground in pain. Unfortunately for him, the harsh slam of his forehead caused him to fall unconscious, and he fell rather heavily to the cheaply carpeted floor of the hotel.

Emil sighed and looked down at the other. He made his way over to his desk and wrote down a small note before placing it on Antonio's chest and leaving the room to go to Matthias'. The note read "I'm sorry your people died. I'm also sorry I kneed you in Pamplona. Dinner tomorrow night to apologize for my actions and my country's stupidity?"


	36. Love Without Walls (Germancest)

_**Yay for a new update! So, a while ago I got a ton of requests from **__**Amy Kitty Katz**__** for various pairings and such, and I have been working on punching them out for a while now, so here's the next installment for her. Also, just a friendly reminder that you are more than welcome to request pairings from me! Thanks so much, and make sure to review! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Love without Walls: a Germany x Prussia drabble<span>

Gilbert was utterly miserable. He had been miserable for years, ever since that damned wall went up and separated him from Ludwig. Ivan had him under his control now while Ludwig was under the joint control of Alfred, Arthur, and Francis. He couldn't even see him at world meetings anymore because Ivan kept him locked on his side of the wall. He rested his head against the graffitied concrete and shut his eyes sadly. Beyond that wall was No Man's Land where countless runaways had lost their lives attempting to get to the other side, whether to see loved ones or to simply better their lives. Though, to be totally honest, just about anywhere would have been better than East Berlin during 1989. He couldn't believe he had ever let this happen. He was supposed to protect his people, make sure they were alright, and this is how he repaid them: with bricks and mortar and concrete and misery.

He almost always slept by the Wall. He couldn't help it, and he had convinced Ivan that he needed to to keep sane, so the Russian let him so long as the guards in the watch towers made sure to keep an eye on him from their posts. He couldn't figure out why he had the pathological need to, but he did. Perhaps it was to feel closer to home, or maybe even to Ludwig. He had almost drifted off when he was roused awake by the sound of shouting. He blinked his eyes open and yawned softly before looking around to see what the fuss was.

The guards in the watch towers were shouting to each other in a multitude of different tongues: German, English, French, and Russian, all being yelled in rapid fire. Then…bombs. The sound of bombs resonated through the air in shock waves that made Gilbert sick to his stomach. He knew what those were and why they were going off. Someone was trying to escape. He squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands over his ears in an attempt to muffle the horrific noises as machine guns began to fire. It worked the slightest bit, but he could still hear everything. The shouting, the bombs, the guns…god he hated it.

The song of artillery came to an end just as abruptly as it had begun, and Gilbert hesitantly took his hands off of his ears when he was sure it had ended.

"Gilbert…"

The Prussian's heart nearly stopped when he heard that voice. He hadn't heard that voice since the wall went up almost thirty years prior. His eyes opened slowly, worried that if he opened them too fast the source of the voice may disappear.

As his eyes traveled upward, he took in dirty, toned biceps clad in a tight, torn forest green tank top. A shimmering black Iron Cross laid delicately on a chiseled collarbone and then his actual face. Gilbert's heart stopped for a split second, then he jumped up and nearly tackled him in a crushing hug as tears fell down his face.

"West! Oh, Ludwig…." he sobbed, burying his face in the other's shoulder as he held him. "Mein Gott…it's really you…I-I can't believe…you c-came here…West…gott, West…"

Ludwig's arms wrapped around him in return, his own face moving and pressing kisses all over the top of Gilbert's hair. "Gilbert…oh, I missed you…." he breathed, desperately trying to hold back his own tears, though they threatened to spill over his lids. He had just gone through what very well may be hell incarnate to get to him, and by god if it wasn't the best decision he had ever made. To simply be able to hold him and hear his voice again was worth any trials and tribulations he may have had to go through.

"W-what are you doing here? They're…they're going to find you…." Gilbert sniffled, looking up at the other with his tear stained eyes. The bright crimson orbs shimmered in the light of the setting sun.

"I don't care. I had to see you again, Gilbert. I could not stay away from you a second longer…" Ludwig whispered, gripping the Prussian's shoulders in his hands to make certain that this was actually happening. His hands didn't pass through him like he thought they should. Gilbert was very real under his fingertips, and that sent his heart fluttering in a way that he never thought possible. "Ich liebe dich…" he whispered. Not even asking for the other's permission, he leaned forward and captured Gilbert's lips in a kiss that was so full of love and adoration that it made him dizzy. It was positively intoxicating, better than any beer he had ever consumed, and by god did he want more of this feeling.

Gilbert gasped in surprise when he felt Ludwig's lips against his own, but he was too happy that he had him back to care. His arms looped up and around his neck and his fingers tangled themselves in the golden locks that for once were not slicked back with insane amounts of gel. He kissed back with conviction, desperate to know that this wasn't a dream and that it was actually happening at that present moment. Honestly, he didn't really care all that much if it _was_ a dream. He just hoped that, if it was, he never, ever had to wake up from it.

When Gilbert finally pulled away for breath, he collapsed into Ludwig's arms. "Ich liebe dich auch…" he breathed out, looking up at him from where his head now rested against his chest. "Thank you for coming back to me…"

"Always, Gilbert."


	37. Welcome to the FACE Family (DenCan)

_**Hey everyone! So this drabble was a request from **__**AphHetaliaLover**__**. I hope you enjoy it, sweetie, as well as the rest of you guys! Alright, I'm gonna stop rambling on and on and just let you get to reading the story. Enjoy! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Welcome to the FACE Family: a Denmark x Canada drabble<span>

_How did I get myself into this situation?_ Matthias thought bitterly to himself as he glanced around at the three pairs of eyes locked on him from around the dinner table.

Of course, he knew exactly how. He had decided to spend the night with Matthew _once_, and that had been all it took to realize he had feelings for the small Canadian and, by some miracle, Matthew actually felt the same about him, but then…the phone had gone off, and of course Matthew had to pick it up. And now, a four hour long car ride later, he was sitting around the dinner table with Matthew, Alfred, Arthur, and Francis in dead silence. No one knew how to start the conversation: Matthias because he was petrified of what the others would think, Matthew in very much the same boat as his lover, and the others because they had absolutely no idea what the hell was actually going on. Well, that wasn't 100% true. Francis knew, but that was only because he was the country of love and he could sniff out romance and sex a mile away. He remained silent, however, as he didn't want to be the one to break the awkward silence that had enveloped everyone at the table.

"_ACHOO!"_

Matthias' head whipped around to try and find the source of the sneeze, only to realize that it was Kumajiro in the corner of the dining room, wiping at his little black nose with his fluffy white paws. He internally groaned. The silence was broken now, so it was only a matter of time until-

"So, Matthias. Tell us, what exactly are your intentions towards Matthew?" Arthur asked, folding his hands on top of the table and raising an eyebrow at him before taking a sip of his tea.

_Oh shit_… he thought to himself. _Think, Matthias, think_! "Um…well…" he stammered, not quite sure what to say to him. He knew Francis would approve because he was all for love of all kinds, as well as Alfred because he was one of his best bros, but Arthur? Arthur was always the harsh one, and clearly the more powerful father figure in this family dynamic, so he was desperate for his approval. He sent Matthew a pleading glance.

"Um…Arthur…Matthias and I are dating…" Matthew said quietly, looking down at his lap. "Since last night."

Arthur spluttered and coughed on the liquid he had in his mouth as Alfred's jaw practically hit the floor.

"Honhonhon, I knew it! Matthew has a glow I have never seen before, and Matthias' hair is ruffled like they just got finished-" Francis began to chuckle, only to get smacked on the arm by Alfred.

"Dude, _so_ not the time," he said, warning clear in his voice as he watched Arthur simmering from across the table. Oh, this was gonna be ugly, he could tell…

Once Arthur composed himself, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. "I'm sorry…would you repeat that?" he asked slowly.

Matthias cleared his throat. "He…said that he and I are dating," he said sheepishly, thoug his voice was at a slightly louder volume than Matthew's had been. "Since last night."

"Right…" the Brit said, standing up and making his way over to the Dane. "Matthias, may I speak to you in private please?"

Matthias felt like his heart had leapt up into his ears now, and even though he hadn't eaten anything, his stomach was turning. He nodded weakly and stood up before following him out of the dining room and into the living room.

As soon as they got to the living room, Arthur whirled on him. "What do you think you're playing at, Matthias?" he asked, annoyance clear in his tone, as if he was a pest that needed eradication.

"What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely confused. He'd been straightforward with him, after all. Wasn't Arthur the type of guy to appreciate honesty like that?

"You're not dating him, you slept with him. Those are two very different things. Though, I guess with your track record you wouldn't know the difference, would you?" he said, crossing his arms.

"Excuse me?" he huffed. "Listen, Arthur. That wasn't just some fling to me. I know you know me as Alfred's friend who is an even bigger idiot than he is and twice the risk taker, but I wouldn't take advantage of him like that."

"Really? Because I have heard from Miss Hungary a very different tune," he hummed, obviously not believing the other for a second.

"Okay, first of all, she came onto _me_, Arthur. Elizabeta has been my friend for years, and she brought up the idea of the whole 'friends with benefits' thing to me. I thought it sounded fun, so we spent the night together-"

"I don't need to hear about your sexual escapades, Matthias," Arthur interrupted, only to have Matthias cut him off again. Unknown to either of them, Matthew had slipped out of the dining room and was listening at the doorway of the living room as the two of them talked.

"No, I think you really do so you can figure out what kind of guy I actually am instead of judging me right away. We had that one night together, and decided that it wasn't for us, so we stopped it. You must have misunderstood when she told you about it," he explained gently. "I would never hurt the man I love…"

Arthur was going to say something, but he halted his speech when he heard the end of his sentence. "Who you _what_?" he asked in shock.

Matthew slipped into the living room then, as he couldn't restrain himself when he heard that. "Yeah, the man you _what_?" he breathed.

Matthias whirled when he heard that soft voice coming from behind him. He flushed darkly. Crap. He'd been caught. He had never said that to Matthew, but he knew it to be true as he looked at the Canadian. "The…the man I love," he said softly, looking into his eyes and moving close to him before taking his hands in his own.

"I love you too…" Matthew whispered before wrapping his arms around the Dane's neck in a tight hug.

Matthias laughed, a little out of relief but mostly out of sheer, unadulterated happiness. He wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him tightly in return, burying his face in Matthew's hair and whispering out "I'm never letting you go…"

Arthur's face softened as he looked at the scene before him. They really did love each other… He moved to Matthias and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Matthias looked up at him for a moment to see Arthur smile gently at him and nod almost imperceptibly before slipping back into the kitchen to give the privacy that they so obviously deserved for this display of affection. They could come back in when they were finished.


	38. Kirkland Industries (England x Russia)

_**Helloooooo everyone! So, this drabble was a request from the lovely **__**Black-Sheep o' FanFics **__**for one of three rare pairs, and I'm more than happy to take those types of requests, so here you go love! Enjoy! **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Kirkland Industries: an England x Fem!Russia drabble<span>

Anya sighed as she hunched over her keyboard in her tiny, eight by eight foot cubicle attempting to get a spreadsheet completed that was absolutely required for her next meeting with her boss. She worked for Kirkland Industries, which had started off as just a tiny little magic shop in the Kirkland garage and turned into an industry in and of itself almost overnight.

Arthur Kirkland, the CEO of the company as well as the boss that Anya was preparing the data analysis for, was the one who had groomed the company into what it was today. He was also one of the youngest CEOs to ever grace the competitive marketplace, being only 25 and well on his way to becoming a multi-millionaire if things kept on track for the next few years.

All of those things didn't quite matter to Anya, however. She didn't see him as one of the most powerful and influential business owners of the 2000s, but instead as the object of her affection. That's right: Anya Braginski had fallen head over heels for the shaggy haired Brit. She couldn't help it! He was kind, and sweet, and witty, and a gentleman to top it all off. He had played violin at the office Christmas party last year, and given half of his earnings to homeless shelters across the city for a birthday gift to himself. And if that wasn't enough, he was attractive to boot. Sure, his eyebrows were stronger than some of the other men she had dated in her time, but that was beside the point. He really was her perfect man…and she was a number in his eyes.

She sighed and glanced at the clock in the lower right corner of her computer screen. 5:02 pm. Perfect. She glanced over her spreadsheet once more to make sure that all of the numbers were correct before hitting the print button and standing to go grab it from the printer. Once she had picked up the precious document and slipped it into a manila folder along with other data she had collected over the course of the month, she began to make her way up to Arthur's office. Being that he was the CEO of the company, he obviously didn't work on the same floor of the building that she did. In fact, he had a floor to himself that one could only access by using a special key card in the elevator. Any of Arthur's advisors had keys, however, and so Anya slipped into the elevator and swiped the card with ease, causing the elevator doors to glide shut and begin to ascend.

Once the elevator halted on the top floor and the doors opened, Anya stepped out and smoothed down her pale pink dress before going and knocking on the glass door of Arthur's private office. She heard a faint _buzz_ and took the hint that she was allowed to enter, as Arthur had just buzzed her in. She carefully opened the door and stepped inside to find Arthur sitting behind his large mahogany desk looking dashing as always. He was in a charcoal grey suit, and an emerald green tie drew attention to his eyes. She took a little pride in knowing that she was behind that fashion choice, as at their last meeting she had told him that next time he wore that suit he should wear one because the white he had been wearing managed to wash him out.

"Ah, Anya. Just on time, as usual. Please, take a seat," Arthur said kindly, standing up out of his chair as she entered the room and not sitting until she did. Once she had, he folded his hands on top of a leather bound calendar and smiled at her. "I assume you have the data I asked for, yes?"

"Of course, sir," she nodded, a faint Russian lilt to her words as she spoke. While she had lived in Britain for most of her life, she had originally learned English when she lived in Moscow, so she still had a faint accent when pronouncing her words. She handed the file folder across the table, feeling her pulse skyrocket when their fingers barely brushed during the hand off. "I'm sure you'll find the numbers to your liking. Everything has been going very well."

Arthur hummed and opened the folder. He removed a few of the documents and spread them out across the desk so that he could look at them all at once and glanced them over. "How many employees were hired this month?"

"An even 200, sir," she answered confidently.

"And how many were let go?"

"Thirty seven from HR and twenty two from customer service."

"How is our stock doing?"

"Steadily climbing at a rate of +1.26%."

These questions continued to be passed between the two of them for almost forty five minutes, and Anya had an answer for each and every one of them. She was the best in the office, after all, and Arthur knew that, so he had saved the most difficult of the research for her in a test of her skills as well as recognition that she possessed them at all.

When their meeting finally concluded, Anya stood and gathered up the new files that Arthur had given her while they talked, tucking them securely under her arm before smoothing down the skirt of her dress that had wrinkled the slightest bit from sitting in one spot for so long. "So long, Mister Kirkland," she said kindly, turning to leave when a small voice in the back her mind halted her mid-stride. She took a deep breath and decided to take the leap of faith. She turned back to face her boss, who was now packing his briefcase to go home and said timidly "Mister Kirkland?"

"Yes Anya?" he asked, looking up from his papers and files into the face of a (fairly obviously) nervous woman.

"I was wondering…if you are not too busy…would you maybe like to have dinner with me sometime?" she asked sheepishly. _Breathe, Anya. The worst he can do is say no to you. Don't freak yourself out more than you have to…_

Arthur paused, thinking over the offer. He…hadn't really been out on a proper date in ages, come to think of it, since he had started the company almost five years prior. As he looked her over, she _was_ rather pretty… "Why not?" he hummed. "Dinner sounds lovely. Are you busy tonight?"

Anya tried hard not to look shell-shocked by his yes, but she couldn't quite help it. Arthur Kirkland had just said yes to a date with her! "I would like to go home to freshen up first, but no, I'm not. That sounds lovely. Why don't you meet me at my flat, say…eight o'clock?" she suggested, a pink staining her cheeks that Arthur could swear matched the dress she wore almost to the letter.

"Perfect," he nodded, a charming smile slipping onto his lips as he made his way around his desk and over to where she stood. "Where exactly do you live?"

"125 Lilian Drive," she said, the blush only getting worse the closer he got to her.

"Well then, I'll see you at eight, love," he smiled, his eyes locking with hers as he bowed down, took her hand, and lightly pressed her knuckles to his lips.

Anya felt as though her heart would stop in that instant as she felt his soft lips press against the tender skin of her hand. She was sure he could feel her erratic pulse through the skin of her hand. She knew that wasn't actually possible, of course, but the paranoid side of her mind remained firm in its assumption of this fact, and so the nagging thought remained as she watched him straighten back up and bid her goodnight before grabbing his briefcase and slipping out of the glass-walled office. A bright grin spread across her face when she saw him get into the elevator, and she let out a little squeal of excitement. Oh…this was going to be fun.

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><p><em><strong>So, consider this drabble part one of two. Yep, that's right! I'm doing a two-parter. Isn't that exciting? *evil laugh* ~Cheylock<strong>_


	39. Goal! (SeaLat)

_**Hey guys! So this drabble was requested by **__**Amy Kitty Katz**__**, and so I wrote it in an attempt to get one step closer to completing all of the ones from them. Hope you guys enjoy it, as the characters in this one are ones that I generally don't write, so I hope I do well! Please review! They really do keep me writing these silly things. **__** ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Goal!: a Sealand x Latvia drabble<span>

"Raivis! Raivis, wake up!" Peter beamed, shaking the boy in question, only to have him bury himself further under the blanket.

"Peter…go away…" Raivis grumbled sleepily, pulling the blankets tighter around himself. The poor kid was absolutely exhausted. Ivan had pushed him and the other Baltics to their limit yesterday by having them wait tables and clean up after the other countries that had been over at his residence after one of the meetings. It wasn't fair, of course, as they were countries too and shouldn't be treated as less…and yet, somehow they were still looked down upon by the others.

"But _Raivis_," Peter whined, flopping down beside him on the bed rather dramatically. "You promised we'd hang out today…" It was true. Raivis had promised to teach Peter how to play football two weeks prior when they had talked on Skype. Peter was only in town for a few days with the other Kirklands, so his excitement was understandable.

Raivis groaned. Damn his generosity. But he couldn't deny the fact that he had made a promise, and he wasn't one to go back on a promise. "…give me five minutes," he muttered defeatedly, causing Peter to jump up happily.

"Yay! Alright, I'll go wait outside your room!" he grinned before rushing from the room.

Raivis stretched his arms above his head before reluctantly sitting up. He heard his spine crack, and he hissed at the pop he felt, but overall he felt much better once the feeling ebbed. His stiffness must have been the result of working so hard yesterday. He rolled his shoulders and yawned before swinging his legs over the side of his bed and actually getting up to get dressed.

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><p>"Okay Peter. Watch me carefully," Raivis instructed. The two of them had just gotten to the football field, and Peter was practically buzzing with excitement. Raivis had the ball securely held under his foot, and was looking over at Peter expectantly. The micronation nodded enthusiastically and took a step back to give him some room. After receiving conformation from Peter that he was watching, Raivis took off down the field, dribbling the ball between his feet before shooting it skillfully into the goal at the end of it. When it landed against the netting, a satisfying <em>whoosh<em> noise resounded.

Peter was in awe. He had never actually played football before, and seeing someone play so skillfully was truly a sight to see. He began to applaud as Raivis jogged back down to him, the ball held under his arm.

"You don't need to applaud, Peter," he chuckled softly. "I've been playing a while, so I just know what I'm doing. Are you ready to try?" he asked.

"Yeah!" he grinned. Raivis placed the ball at his feet and nodded at him.

"Alright, just pass the ball between your feet to get it to move with you, and when you get down to the end of the field, kick with the top of your foot to get it to go straight," Raivis smiled. "Got it?"

"Yeah, I've got it. Can I try now?" he asked. He was already having visions about how good he was going to be; the players on the World Cup teams would have nothing on him!

"Sure, whenever you're ready," he nodded.

Upon receiving the affirmative from Raivis, Peter took off down the field, awkwardly fumbling the ball between his feet as he went. Alright, so _maybe_ he wasn't as good as the people on the World Cup team yet. Or at all. He sucked, if he was being totally honest with himself, and that was only cemented in his brain as he promptly proceeded to trip over his own feet and land face down in the grass.

"Peter!" Raivis gasped, rushing down field and sliding down beside him. "Peter, are you alright?" he asked, helping him to sit up and looking at his face. There was a bit of grass stain running down his nose, but other than that he appeared physically unscathed.

Peter sniffled and looked up at him with tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. "Y-yeah, I'm okay…" he said weakly.

"Hey…you're not hurt, are you?" he asked gently, running his hand lightly along his cheek.

"Well…no," he sniffled.

"Then get up," he chuckled gently, wrapping his other arm around him and helping him up. "Why are you getting all teary?"

"Because…I'm really bad," he said softly, looking down at his feet.

"Peter, do you think that I got as good as I am from just trying once? I've fallen on my face a lot," he assured him. "It takes a lot of practice! Come on, try again."

"I don't know…"

"Just one more time," he tried.

"…fine," he conceded, taking the ball from him and placing it by his feet. He took a deep breath before taking off down the field once more, dribbling the ball a bit more skillfully this time as he went. When he reached the end, he tried shooting a goal, shutting his eyes and kicking blindly. _Whoosh_! Peter's eyes flew open and he looked into the goal, only to see that the ball was settled in the goal. "Oh my god! I did it!" he beamed, jumping up and down happily. Raivis grinned and ran down to him, giving him a hug.

"Good job! See, I told you you could do it!" Raivis grinned.

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><p>From the house, Ivan and Arthur were leaning on the balcony and watching the boys as they celebrated down on the field below. Their hands rested slightly over each other's as they watched.<p>

"Ten pounds says that the two of them end up together in a few years," Arthur smirked.

"Oh, they do not like each other like that," Ivan hummed, his eyes still on the two of them.

"Well then, what's the harm in wagering on it?"

Ivan contemplated his offer for just a moment before nodding. "Da. Ten pounds."

Arthur pressed a kiss to the back of Ivan's hand and smiled up at him. "It's a deal then, love."


	40. Just Add Maple (MapleTea)

_**Hellooooo everybody! So this drabble wasn't a request. It was written for my friend as a birthday present because she ships MapleTea a lot, so I figured I'd post it here! Enjoy! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Just Add Maple: a Canada x England drabble<span>

Arthur turned the page of his book and took a small sip of his tea where he rested on the couch. He and Matthew had been living together for about four months now, and so far things were going swimmingly! Their schedules coincided fairly well, and so they got home from work within an hour of each other every night. Generally, when Matthew got home, the two of them would cuddle on the couch and tell each other about their day. With Matthew working as a doctor at a busy hospital and Arthur as an animator, there was never a lack of stories from their places of work. And now, Arthur was simply waiting for his love to arrive back at home and passing the time with a little light reading.

About five minutes later, Arthur was startled out of his imaginary world by the feeling of two arms wrapping around his shoulders from behind. He jumped slightly, but a smile spread across his face nonetheless. "Hello, love. How was work?" he asked.

Matthew smiled a bit in return and pressed a kiss to the top of Arthur's head. "We didn't lose anyone today, which was good. How's the film going?" he murmured.

"It's going well, thanks for asking. Though, Alfred from the voice acting department came in today and proceeded to screw up my office again," he said with a roll of his eyes. "That git, I swear. What am I to do with him?"

"Nothing, unless you want to be sleeping on the couch tonight," Matthew chuckled, causing a small laugh to escape his partner. He released him and made his way around to the front of the couch before sitting down beside him and wrapping his arm around his shoulders once more.

"Oh, you know I'd never do that to you, Matthew," he smiled, leaning over and pecking his cheek.

Matthew turned his head and caught Arthur's lips with his own playfully, earning him a surprised squeak from the Brit before he felt him melt into it and gently kiss him in return. When he felt Arthur's arms wrap around his neck, he wrapped his own around his waist and pulled him close. And that was when he felt Arthur's tongue gently trail across his lower lip. _Oh_. He hadn't expected an innocent kiss to escalate, but hey. The two of them had been pretty busy recently and their intimacy _had_ fallen a bit by the wayside. Maybe a good make out session was overdue. He parted his lips slightly for him, and Arthur's tongue moved into his mouth, tangling with his own absolutely deliciously. Matthew's fingers tightened the slightest bit in the fabric of Arthur's shirt hem and he pulled him a bit closer as the kiss deepened and became a bit more intense.

The two of them continued in this manner for about fifteen solid minutes before Matthew had to pull away for breath. When he did so, Arthur began to kiss lightly down his neck. "You know love…we haven't been together in at least two weeks," he murmured against his skin. "You're not getting bored, are you?"

"What? N-no!" he protested immediately, albeit a little breathlessly. The kisses to his sensitive neck had begun to take a bit of a toll on his ability to think clearly. "I could never get bored with you…"

"Well…I was thinking…perhaps we might try something new?" Arthur suggested, ceasing the kisses to his neck in favor of kissing his lips again.

"I…what did you have in mind?" he chucked sheepishly. Matthew could feel crimson beginning to seep into his cheeks. He was pretty easy to fluster when Arthur set his mind to it.

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><p>"Bloody hell…" Arthur panted, collapsing against the covers besides Matthew. "That…was amazing…"<p>

"I never thought you would like that that much," Matthew chuckled breathily, looking into Arthur's eyes softly, the way he always did after they made love.

"Me neither. It was something I found on the internet," he laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Matthew and letting the Canadian cuddle up into his chest.

When Matthew moved to do so, however, he laughed and pulled away. "You're all sticky. We should go take a shower before we get too comfortable," he smiled gently, sitting up.

"Easy for you to say. You'll be able to stand," Arthur snickered.

"Well, what should we do then?" Matthew said with a smile and a roll of his eyes.

Arthur pondered that for a few moments before pulling Matthew back down to him. "Round two?" he smirked.

"Already?" Matthew laughed.

"What can I say, love? You get to me in a way no one ever has," he smiled.

"Fine, fine. But then we really do need a shower," Matthew laughed before leaning in and kissing him. He reached a hand out, grabbing blindly at the nightstand beside their bed before coming back with a bottle of maple syrup. Oh, tonight was going to be a good night.


	41. Kirkland Industries II (England x Russia

_**Hello everyone! So, some of you have said that you were eagerly awaiting a Part II to my previous drabble "Kirkland Industries," and I am nothing if not a lady of my word. So, without further adue, here it is! Enjoy, and make sure to review! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>Kirkland Industries (Part II): an England x Fem!Russia drabble<span>

Anya took a deep breath and studied herself in the mirror of her bedroom. She had donned a pretty white dress with a small pink shawl over top of it, and her long platinum blonde hair had been curled so that it cascaded down her back like a gentle river. She had gone minimal with her makeup, only wearing a little mascara and some shimmering lip gloss. Did she look nice enough? God, she was so nervous!

She glanced over at the clock by her door and her stomach flipped. It was already 7:45. Arthur would be there any minute! _Alright, Anya. You can do this_, she thought to herself. _He's only a man. Don't overthink things and you'll be fine_.

To calm her nerves, she grabbed a book off of her bookshelf and made herself comfortable on the couch. It was a copy of Stephen King's The Shining, a personal favorite of hers. Within two minutes, she was already sucked into the colorful narrative. However, just as Jack Torrence was being tormented by the topiary animals in the garden of the Overlook, she was snapped out of the fictional universe by a knocking. "Coming!" she called, dog-earing the page she was on and setting it on the coffee table before making her way to the front door of her flat.

Upon opening it, she was _really_ glad she'd worn what she had and hadn't opted to go more casual with it, as there stood Arthur in an absolutely gorgeous charcoal grey suit with a skinny black tie. She blushed the slightest bit (though it was fairly obvious on her pale skin). "Hello, Mister Kirk-" she began before catching herself. "Arthur."

Arthur chuckled upon hearing her slight slip up. "Hello, Anya. Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"Yes, I am. Just let me grab my purse from my bedroom. Please, come in," she smiled, moving aside to allow him entrance into her home before turning on her heel and heading to her bedroom to grab her purse like she'd said.

"Don't mind if I do," he hummed, taking her up on her invitation and slipping into her flat. He looked around her living room with mild interest. "You have a lovely place," he commented so that she could hear him in the other room.

"Oh, thanks," she called from her room as she grabbed her clutch. It was a little white leather thing with a gold clasp. It had been her mother's. Once she'd slipped her phone and her lip gloss into it, she fastened the clasp shut and exited her bedroom. "Alright, all ready," she smiled.

"Fantastic," he smiled in return, offering her his arm. "Shall we head out then?"

_This man is going to be the death of me_, she thought before sheepishly linking her arm with his. "Of course," she said.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Anya was immediately hit with the absolutely delectable scent of freshly baked bread mixed with red sauce and pasta. The place had a classy feeling to it, though not so much so that she was uncomfortable or felt out of place.

The two of them approached the hostess stand and, once they arrived, Arthur told her that they had a reservation for two under the name Kirkland. The recognition of the name was instantaneous on the hostess' features, and she hurriedly escorted them to what was arguably the best table in the restaurant. Arthur thanked her and, after she told them that their server would be by shortly, and she scurried off.

Once she was gone, Arthur pulled out Anya's chair for her and after she was seated sat down himself.

"This is a nice little place," she smiled, taking a look around her at some of the other patrons. There was a family in the corner booth who appeared to be celebrating their teenage daughter's birthday, if the two presents in front of her were any indication. An elderly couple was seated by the far wall, and the two of them were holding hands across the table. In the middle of the restaurant, a man sat alone eating some bruschetta and typing away at his laptop, presumably some sort of writer. "How'd you find it anyways? I would think a guy like you would go to fancy French restaurants and stuff," she asked, turning her attention back to him.

"Oh, the owners and I went to college together," he explained. "I was the one who gave them the capital to start up their restaurant once I became successful."

Her eyes widened at that, but she quickly regained her composure. "Really? That's quite generous. You must have been good friends with them."

"Well, I was with _one_ of them. The other didn't particularly like the fact that I was so close to his brother and was super protective, so the two of us never got along completely," he chuckled. "But I was friends with Feliciano, yes. Something tells me that once he gets wind that I'm here he'll make an appearance at some point during the night. I apologize in advance. If it's Lovino…I apologize even more."

Anya smiled at that and let out a soft laugh of her own. "They can't be that bad."

"Feliciano isn't bad at all," he said quickly. "He's a very kind man, just a little eccentric and easily excitable. Lovino on the other hand…well, he can be a bit abrasive at times."

"Can't we all?"

"Yes, but he takes it above and beyond the norm in some respects. Especially with some of his word choices."

Anya bit her lower lip to keep from laughing at that. "On a scale of one to sailor, how bad would you say he actually is? Without exaggerating."

"Twelve."

She whistled lowly and took a sip of water from the glass that was on the table in front of her. The restaurant had supplied water before they had even sat down, and there was a matching glass in front of Arthur as well. "Really?"

"Oh yes. However, he's not all bad. I remember during university he was absolutely smitten with a girl in our philosophy class. I forget her name, but I remember she was Belgian and absolutely stunning. It got to the point where he would be tongue tied if she even entered the same room. He wanted to impress her so badly. It was really quite sweet. He actually asked one of my…I hesitate to say "friends," though I suppose in a loose sense that's what we were…about it and he showed up at the girl's dormitory with a dozen roses and a whole speech prepared. I wasn't actually there for this and I only got the cliff notes from Francis, but apparently when she opened the door to her bedroom she was with the exchange student from Amsterdam. They'd already been together for a month at that point, and poor Lovino had had no clue," he said with a sorrowful shake of his head.

"Oh, that's awful. Did he ever get another chance with her?" Anya asked curiously.

"At least not at Uni. I'm not sure what happened with the two of them afterwards though. Who knows, they could be married now," he chuckled. "Can you imagine that?"

"Well, I like to believe that there's one perfect person out there for everyone. Maybe she was that for him," she mused.

"You think so?"

"It's possible. You can't rule it out," she shrugged. "Not when we don't know what's controlling everything down here on Earth."

He watched her as she spoke and he smiled a little. "I suppose you're right. We can't possibly make assumptions that that isn't the case when we don't know. I've never quite thought of it that way," he hummed, taking a drink of his own. "You make a convincing argument."

She blushed a little and rubbed the back of her neck shyly. "It's just something my mom used to say."

"Ah, I see. Were you close with your family?" he asked.

"As close as I could be, I guess? I don't know. I had two brothers, Nikolai and Irunya, so my parent's affection was stretched pretty thin. Nikolai was always _really_ affectionate towards me though. So was Irunya in most respects, but Nikolai took it to a new level," she chuckled. "They were all upset when I moved to the States though. Worried they'd never see me again."

"Sounds like quite the family," he smiled, folding his hands in front of himself.

"Understatement of the century," she hummed as their waitress arrived at their table. She was a pretty blonde with bright excitable eyes, and Anya suddenly felt a little inadequate as she began to speak.

"Hello, my name is Laura and I'll be your waitress tonight. Can I start you with some drinks? We have a lovely Moscato wine available," she said charmingly, only to lock eyes with Arthur, who looked absolutely shocked. "Arthur?!"

"Laura?!" he gaped before regaining his bearings and clearing his throat awkwardly. "Anya, this is Laura. She was the girl I was telling you about before. The one from philosophy class in Uni."

A bright smile spread across Anya's face at the realization and she laughed softly. _Oh thank god she's not his ex…_ she thought to herself. "Ah, that makes sense. I assume things worked out between you and Lovino then?" she asked.

"Well, I mean, yeah…" she blushed, running a hand through her hair out of sheepishness. The light caught a ring on her hand, however, sending sparkles in a small aura around it that was hard to miss.

"You're engaged?" Arthur laughed. "Well damn, funny how things work out, huh?"

"Yeah! He can be a bit obnoxious, but I love him," she chuckled before taking out her notepad to take their drink order. "So, drinks?"

"I'll have a glass of that Moscato, if that's not too much trouble," Anya said.

"Make that two, please," Arthur added, to which Laura nodded happily.

"Of course. It'll be just a minute or two," she smiled before ducking off to get them their wine.

* * *

><p>By the end of the night, Anya was just about certain of one thing: Arthur Kirkland was her perfect guy. Granted, she had already had an inkling of that thought before, but now it was absolutely certain. He was kind, and gentle (though he wasn't afraid to curse someone out when needed). He was funny and sweet. He made her heart flutter in ways that, in another scenario, would have had her seeking immediate medical attention. He was handsome, and smart. He spoke a little bit of Russian, due to some arrangements Kirkland Industries had made with their manufacturing plant in Moscow. And as he walked her to her door, her once bare shoulders covered up by the suit jacket he had offered her because of the faint chill in the air, she found herself wishing that the night didn't have to end there. But alas, when they reached her door, they came to a halt and she smiled shyly at him.<p>

"I had a really nice time tonight, Arthur. Thank you for agreeing to come out with me," she said.

"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you," he smiled charmingly, taking her hand in his own. "I hope we can do this again soon."

She nodded enthusiastically and her smile became a little less sheepish. "I'd love to."

Arthur hesitated only a moment before stepping a little closer to her and gently removing the jacket from her shoulders, slipping it back onto his own and straightening his lapels. He didn't move back to his previous position once he had retrieved it, however. Instead, he removed his hand from hers and used it to tilt her chin up so that his eyes were looking into hers. "Fantastic…" he whispered.

Anya's heart was thumping erratically in her chest, but she ignored it. She couldn't focus on that right now if she tried anyways. All she could focus on was how close Arthur was to her, how the scent of his cologne washed over her in a pleasant wave, how his bright green eyes also held flecks of gold, and how those eyes had flicked ever so quickly to her lips before meeting her gaze again. Her eyes mimicked his motion, dropping to his lips for a moment before moving back up to his. "Yeah…" she whispered in return.

Arthur caught the motion and took it as a green light. He closed the distance between the two of them and pressed his lips to hers tenderly, his hand cupping her cheek and holding her close as he kissed her. It was the type of kiss that left you feeling dizzy and absolutely lovestruck, regardless of the side of it you were on.

Anya had stood on her toes a little so that she could meet his lips, and by the end she felt her knees getting wobbly. God, she hoped she didn't trip on the way back into her flat. When the two of them pulled away for breath, they were both smiling like idiots. "So…see you at work tomorrow?" Anya giggled, causing Arthur to laugh and peck her on the cheek.

"Of course, love."

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><p><em><strong>Hey guys! So sorry this part took so long, but I wanted to make it good seeing as so many of you wanted to see a part two! Hope it went where you guys were hoping it would! ~Cheylock<strong>_


	42. No Foam (Spamano)

_**Hello everyone! Alright, I have another request for you guys! Now, **__**Something Unpretty**__** didn't specify what ship they wanted for this drabble, only a scenario, so I did my best, and I hope you guys like where I went with it! Enjoy, and make sure to review! I love reading them! ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>No Foam: a Spain x Romano drabble<span>

Lovino groaned as he eased himself out of bed when his alarm went off. He slapped the infernal device off and rubbed at his eyes. He had pulled a near all-nighter the previous night in order to study for a big test he had today at university, but that came with one draw-back: he was dead tired. He yawned and stretched a bit before making his way over to his closet and picking out his clothes for the day.

Once dressed, he dragged himself into the kitchen to start up the coffee machine. It was practically instinct at this point: get out of bed, get dressed, make coffee, put it in a travel mug, and get to class. But when he hit the button on his Keurig system, it told him that there was no coffee loaded into it. That was pretty strange, seeing as Lovino could have sworn he had put a cup in before he went to bed the night before… Unless…

"Oh, damn me…" Lovino cursed under his breath. He was out of coffee, and god did he need it today of all days. He glanced at his watch. If he hurried, he could get to the coffee shop on the corner, get his coffee, and make it only about five minutes late for his test. He decided it was worth the possibility of being late and slipped on his shoes, grabbed his backpack from by the door, and slipped outside into the frigid February air.

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><p><em>Oh…well, that's new… <em>Lovino had stopped mid-stride as he got in line at the coffee shop when he saw the barista behind the counter. He had chocolate brown locks and bright, happy green eyes that Lovino could see even from where he stood at the back of the line. His heart did a strange little flip in his chest, but he shook it off. He was just a guy, after all. Nothing special! _A devilishly attractive guy who is biting his lip and- Oh shit! He's looking at me! _he mentally added before quickly averting his gaze. A pale blush spread across his cheeks when he realized he was caught, but it quickly dissipated as he kept his head down and fiddled around with his phone as the line moved forward.

When Lovino finally reached the front of the line, he looked up at the menu, purposely avoiding looking at the man in front of him. Antonio, he realized after catching a glimpse of his name tag. "Ciao, I need a cappuccino, no foam. And if you could make it fast, that'd be great. I'm late for a class," he said, digging around in his bag for his wallet.

"Sure. That'll be $4.65," Antonio smiled charmingly, ringing him up.

Lovino nodded his understanding and dug out the appropriate bills and change from his wallet once he found it, handing it to Antonio and nearly dropping it all on the counter when their fingers brushed for all of five seconds. _Jesus, what's __**wrong**__ with me?!_

Antonio smirked slightly for only a moment before handing him his receipt and asking "And what name will that be under?" he asked, grabbing a cup and a permanent marker.

"Lovino," he said, but when Antonio gave him a bit of a blank look, he began to speak slowly, as if talking to a kindergarten student. "L-O-V-I-N-O. Honestly, how hard is that?" he sighed in a little bit of exaggeration. He really didn't think it was that difficult a name to spell. He had certainly heard more difficult in some of his classes.

Antonio chuckled and wrote down the name as quickly as he could. "Sorry. Due to the confidentiality of my job, I don't know what I'm doing," he snickered as he handed the cup down the line of workers to get it filled with Lovino's order.

Lovino managed to crack a barely-there smile for the briefest of moments before it was wiped away when the son of the woman behind him in line hit the back of knee with his plastic dinosaur. He hissed a bit and rolled his eyes. It was just a little kid. He couldn't lose his mind over that. Unfortunately, his patience could only be worn so thin; the boy continued to slam the dinosaur into his leg, and he snapped. Looking up at Antonio, he huffed and said loud enough for the mother behind him to hear "You know Antonio, I don't know _when_ the UFO dropped off all these stupid people, but _clearly_ they're not coming back for them!"

That got the desired reaction out of the mother, and she took the toy from her son and began to scold him in a hushed tone. The reaction he was not expecting, however, came from Antonio. He was practically dying with laughter, his forearms supporting his weight on the counter.

"What's so funny?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You just get right to the point, don't you?" Antonio snickered, locking eyes with the other and smiling at him. His smile was dazzling, to the point where Lovino found himself wondering if the other had ever considered doing toothpaste commercials. He didn't realize he'd been staring until Antonio cleared his throat. He snapped back to attention and looked at him a little sheepishly.

"Ah…what?" he asked, realizing he had missed what Antonio had asked him in his little daze.

"You said you're late for a class. What're you taking? I'm a junior this year," he smiled, not minding at all that the other had let his mind drift a little.

"I'm majoring in culinary arts with a minor in psychology. What about you?" he asked, a little curious about what the other was taking.

"That's pretty impressive," he chuckled. "I'm studying to become a nurse."

Lovino raised an eyebrow at him in surprise. "A nurse?"

"Yeah, I get that reaction a lot," he snickered. "But I love helping people, and I like to think I'm kind enough to help people through the tough times in their lives. So it's what I want to do, and hopefully I'm good at it. I don't exactly want to stay a barista the rest of my life, you know?"

Lovino listened to him with an unprecedented attentiveness, and when he finished speaking, he nodded. "Well, good luck with that then," he said honestly before he realized he had just said something not at all sarcastic in response to what Antonio had said to him. Holy _shit_, what was this guy doing to him?!

As he was contemplating this, the boy behind him tugged roughly at his backpack, causing his books to spill all over the floor. Needless to say, that snapped him out of his thoughts fairly quickly and he whipped around to face the mother of the child who was about to apologize to him. "Ah, I see the mythical fuck-up fairy has appeared yet again!" he spat before leaning down to pick up his books from the floor. "Control your kid, would you? These books cost me three month's rent," he muttered, causing the mother to nod furiously and drag her child out of the café.

Once he had gathered all of his books back into his bag and slung said bag over his shoulder, he stood and turned back to Antonio who was waiting with a cup of steaming coffee on the counter. "Here you are. Now get to your class," the Spaniard smirked, winking at him playfully as he took the coffee from the counter.

That wink was nearly the end of him, but Lovino managed to keep it together as he muttered out a "thank you" before scurrying out of the café. It was only when he got to his car that he took a sip of his coffee. _Ah, perfect…_ He sighed a bit in contentment and started his engine, going to set his coffee in his cup holder when the permanent marker on the side caught his eye. Underneath his name (which Antonio _still_ hadn't spelled right, even though he'd spelled it out for him), in his pretty cursive script, was a phone number with the words "Call Me" written next to it. He cracked a smile at that and laughed softly to himself. He might just have to give this idiot a chance…


	43. I'll Never Tell (France x Russia)

_**Hey everyone! A new request for you! **__**AphHetaliaLover**__** requested this one, so I hope you guys like it! I based it off the idea that France and Russia had an alliance from 1892 to 1917. Also, at the time I'm writing this, I noticed that this set of drabbles has been read almost 30,000 times! That's insane! Thank you guys so much! I never would have thought that this set of drabbles that I started writing on a whim during study hall would grow into this monstrosity. I love you guys so much. 3 ~Cheylock**_

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><p><span>I'll Never Tell: a fem!France x fem!Russia drabble<span>

"M-Marianne…" Anya breathed out, the back of her head landing with a slight _thunk_ against the wood of the closet wall. The woman in question didn't respond, instead continuing to kiss and suck lightly at the underside of her jaw, causing her breathing to hitch, much to the other's delight. Anya let out a soft whimper, followed by a Russian curse that Marianne didn't understand along with the other's name again.

So, how did these unlikely two end up in this situation?

_The 1882 Triple Alliance of Germany,Austria-Hungary and Italy had left Russia vulnerable, while France had been diplomatically isolated since its defeat in the 1871 Franco-Prussian War and the subsequent policies of Otto von Bismarck. Despite the deep social and political differences between France, a republic, and Russia, an absolute monarchy, relations between the two countries rapidly improved._

_From 1888,Russia was provided with cheap loans floated on the Paris Bourse, essential to rebuild the technologically deficient Russian military and to build strategic railways that could bring the troops to the German front. In 1891, the French Fleet visited the Russian naval base at Kronstadt and was warmly welcomed by Tsar Alexander III. This visit marked the first time La Marseillaise was played on an official occasion in Russia; to play it previously had been a criminal offence._

_The new German Emperor Wilhelm II, after dismissing Bismarck, oversaw a change in the direction of German foreign policy. The secret Reinsurance Treaty with Russia was allowed to expire in 1890, despite Russian requests to renew it. The German Chancellor Caprivi advised Wilhelm II not to renew the treaty, because by this treaty Germany promised to remain neutral if Russia were to occupy the Straits (i.e. Constantinople). Such a treaty, if made public, would enrage both the British and the Ottoman Empire._

_After extensive negotiations, the Franco-Russian alliance was drafted August 17, 1892. It became final on January 4, 1894. The alliance was to remain in place as long as the Triple Alliance existed. The secret treaty between France and Russia stipulated that if one of the countries of the Triple Alliance (Germany, Austria-Hungary and Italy) attacked France or Russia, its ally would attack the aggressor in question, and that if a Triple Alliance country mobilized its army, France and Russia would mobilize. France would engage 1,300,000 troops and Russia 700,000 – 800,000._

At least, that was what the books said about it. The actual history surrounding the whole ordeal was quite cut and dry when put like that, but the actual event had been far more complicated for Marianne and Anya. Hearts had been broken, bodies wounded, and feelings confessed until they finally agreed that they couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. They formed their treaty officially, and celebrated fairly…intimately.

Since then, whenever either of them was feeling frisky, they would grab the other and find some privacy as quickly as they could. And that was how the two of them had wound up in a supply closet in the Palace of Versailles. The World Meeting for the month had been held there and afterwards, Anya had pulled Marianne aside, explaining her situation, and Marianne was more than happy to oblige.

"Ah-ah, you know the deal," Marianne purred, nibbling at her earlobe. "You know what you're supposed to call me, mon cher…"

Anya felt a shiver run down her spine at the tone of her voice. It lit a fire in her when the other talked like that, and it would take everything in her to resist; not that she wanted to at this point. She caved to the other's wishes as soon as her hands began to slip up the skirt of her dress. "F-France…" she gasped.

The other smirked at that. "That's more like it," she growled. Her hands moved to her upper thighs and before Anya could react, she hiked her up on the wall until she wrapped her legs around her waist to keep herself from falling. Marianne ground against her, causing a wanton moan to pass the Russian's lips. She sucked a dark hickey into the pale skin of her neck, and the symbolism of the action wasn't lost on either of them. It was a mark that showed that she belonged to someone, that she had someone who would make her scream, and make her love every second of it.

"Bog…pozhaluysta, [1]" Anya whimpered. While Marianne didn't speak Russian, the two of them had been together enough times at this point to know what that phrase meant now and good lord did she comply. Just as Marianne was adjusting Anya's legs so that they were around her shoulders and not her waist, however, the door to the closet was flung open and light flooded the tiny room.

"Damn it Amelia, how many times have I told you not to drink coffee around the paperwo-!" Alice yelled behind her, only to cut herself off with a yelp when she saw the sight in front of her. She slammed the door shut, and the duo immediately halted their activities, Marianne putting Anya back on the ground and rushing out of the closet, straightening their clothes as they went and cornering Alice before she could get back to the conference room.

"Alice!" Marianne called, managing to grab her wrist.

"Marianne, I do _not_ want to talk about anything that I just saw, so if you would kindly let go of my wrist," Alice said quickly, a crimson blush splashed across her cheeks as she looked at the two. Marriane had a smug demeanor, whereas Anya's blush rivaled her own.

"Alice, no one knows. Please, don't tell anyone," Anya begged. "We made a treaty a while ago, and it sort of spiraled, but its official so we're not breaking any rules. We just want it to stay quiet!"

Alice hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Fine. Just…keep it in your pants for a little while, frog," the Brit muttered before tugging her wrist out of Marianne's grip. She made her way back to the conference room, but before entering she turned back to the two of them. "Don't worry, you idiots. I won't tell anyone. Just be glad it was me. You never would have kept Amelia quiet."

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><p><em><strong>[1] Bog…pozhaluysta = God…please<strong>_


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